


Steeling Secrets

by MissMy80sShows



Series: Moving Forward Series [4]
Category: Remington Steele (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-06-05 20:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 61,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15179201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMy80sShows/pseuds/MissMy80sShows
Summary: Will Daniel drive them apart or will they find their way back together?  How many secrets will they discover about themselves, their relationship and their future?Co-written with RSFanGirl83





	1. OH That Man!

**Author's Note:**

> For character continuity, Moving Forward stories should be read in order.  
> Steele in the Countryside  
> Steele Chalming  
> Steeling Secrets

_Laura woke to the sound of the phone ringing beside her. Confused, she answered, "Hello?"_

" _Laura? Laura, are you still sleeping? Really now… the train leaves in two hours. You need to finish packing… shower… you're going to be late!" Remington's voice crackled through the phone._

_Laura sat up, rubbing her head, "Where are you?"_

" _You… um… you didn't see my note," he said slowly._

" _Note? What note?" Laura replied looking around the room._

" _On the pillow… I thought you'd see it there… when I wasn't…" Remington explained softly._

_Picking up the note, Laura read, Laura, Need more answers… will call you later. RS "What do you mean, you need more answers? Where are you?" she asked again._

" _I'm at Daniel's flat. I couldn't help think there might be something else… something in that briefcase…," Remington began to explain._

_Sitting up completely, Laura questioned him, "What are you talking about? Did you find something? Why didn't you wake me?"_

" _Slow down, Laura… I couldn't sleep, you looked so peaceful. I didn't want to disturb you," he replied._

" _If you couldn't sleep, you should've woken me!" Laura snapped as she pulled her knees up, resting her arm across them._

" _I couldn't get the thought out of my mind that Daniel would have kept a list…." he began to explain._

" _What list?" Laura snapped again, throwing her arm in the air._

" _Laura, I'm trying to explain that but you keep interrupting me," he snapped back._

" _Sorry, go on Mr. Steele," she replied._

_Sighing loudly, Remington shook his head, flexed his jaw before continuing, "Yes, well, the list…. Daniel and I had executed a multitude of cons over the years together… He… ah…. I found…. "_

" _What did you find? What could you have possibly found that would make you miss our train back to Ireland? Our train leaves in less than two hours, we still need to finish packing…" Laura exclaimed._

_"Yes, well, be that as it may, I've decided..." he interrupted Laura._

_"YOU'VE decided? What about US? We're a team, remember? And this so-called TEAM is supposed to be getting married! … and we have brunch on Sunday with YOUR family! We NEED to get back to Ireland!" Laura yelled._

" _And I NEED to stay here and sort this out! Laura, Daniel's little …. bombshell… could have a profound effect on our future," Remington yelled back._

" _Once again, it's all about your damned past! We can't get away from it, here, in LA, in Ireland… it continually follows us around like… like... " Laura stuttered in her anger._

" _I'm sorry, Miss Holt if my past is so bothersome to you at this time. I thought we were beyond this but… well… Sometimes the truth can be so…" he snapped, his words clipped._

" _So WHAT?" Laura yelled, furious._

" _So inconvenient. Go back to Ireland, Laura," Remington stated before slamming down the phone._

_Laura stared at the buzzing phone in her hand, uncertain of their future._

Chapter 1

Laura continued to stare at the phone, stunned, at the unsettling turn of events. She turned slowly and dropped the receiver on the cradle. Running her hands through her hair, she winced slightly when she pulled along the stitches of the injury she'd suffered in the mine explosion back in Ireland a few short days ago. If HE was still here, he would be constantly reminding her to be more cautious and he would be fawning over her, looking after her.

Dismissing her sentimental reminiscences, she threw the covers off to the side with a huff and walked through the hotel bedroom toward the bathroom. For the next few minutes, she muttered to herself as she packed up her toiletries and carried things to the bed. "...'Go back to Ireland, Laura', he says. …. And what are YOU going to do, Mr. Steele? Stay here and do what!?..."

Pulling her suitcase out from under the bed, she slapped it down and began tossing her things into it haphazardly, too upset to pack things with her customary attention to detail. She opened a drawer and stopped suddenly as she viewed its contents. Reaching inside, she pulled out Remington's sweater and held it to her face, inhaling deeply. She couldn't stop the stuttered breath she released as she turned her head toward the ceiling, hot tears burning her eyes.

Fighting the tears back, even as a knot of pain twisted away in her stomach, she struggled to keep her emotions in check. With a deep breath between clenched teeth, she threw the sweater onto the bed and slammed the drawer closed. Determined to finish her packing, Laura continued opening and closing drawers and closet doors until all her belongings were either on the bed or in the suitcase. Stealing a glance at the clock, she decided she had enough time for a quick shower before she needed to call for a taxi to take her to the train station.

As she crossed the room, she froze when she heard a knock on the door and the glimmer of relief she had felt was immediately trampled by a surge of anger that rushed through her. Rolling her eyes she marched toward the door, announcing, "Let me guess…. You forgot your key." She opened the door and was stunned to find Shannon Wayne standing before her. Deciding she wasn't in the mood to deal with her, Laura simply said, "He's not here, Shannon."

Shannon ignored her comment as she rushed past Laura into the hotel suite calling out, "Dougie? Dougie?!"

"Mr. Steele is NOT here, Shannon," Laura stated again, stepping back to the middle of the room, her arms crossed, shooting icy looks at Shannon.

"My gosh, Lulu, I just heard the word on the street that Daniel… well, poor Daniel…. He's gone to meet his maker… and well, I'm sure Dougie must be simply devastated!" Shannon gushed as she continued to move around the suite.

"Here to offer him a shoulder to cry on?" Laura asked sarcastically as she watched Shannon.

"Something like that." Shannon tossed over her shoulder casually. "We were always there for each other...we REALLY understand each other, Dougie and I...you know, both coming from the life..." Shannon concluded as her eyes swept every room. She stopped short when she noticed the half-packed suitcase on the bed. "Going somewhere?" she asked with eager curiosity.

"I'll tell Mr. Steele you dropped by to see him when he calls," Laura replied, ignoring Shannon's question. "Now if you don't mind, I'm on a tight schedule today," Laura said as she gestured toward the door for Shannon to leave.

"What do you mean…  _when_  Mr. Steele calls? I thought he was here with you?" Shannon asked innocently.

"He is… was…. here with me… He had some business to attend to, so if you would be so kind as to leave, I'd like to finish packing my things," Laura stated as she bit the inside of her lip.

Shannon batted her eyes at Laura for a moment before asking, "You mean you're leaving? Alone? Or are you packing Dougie's things for him as well?" She smiled sweetly, tilting her head to the side, blinking again.

Laura crossed her arms defiantly and replied, "Mr. Steele is more than capable of packing his own things when he returns."

"You mean,  _IF_  he comes back, don't you, Lulu?" Shannon asked, her tone sweet as honey, leaving a sour taste in Laura's mouth.

"He's coming back… now, I need to catch a train, Shannon, so you really need to leave… NOW!" Laura tried hard to suppress her anger. As she spoke, she marched toward the door, her fists balled up tightly, forcing Shannon to back up until her backside met with the hard surface behind her.

"You will tell Dougie I stopped by, won't you," Shannon said as she made a quick exit out the door. She was partially down the hall when she heard the muffled thud against the door.

Inside the suite, Laura had picked up the closest object to her, which happened to be a phone book, and had thrown it full force against the door. "Oooohhhhh, that MAN!" she cried. "When I get my hands on him…." Laura, hands clenched so tightly her knuckles were white, shut her eyes and took a cleansing breath. She re-opened her eyes with new determination and straightened herself up to her full height, smoothing her pajama top, "I don't have time for this" she told herself, "I need to finish packing, take a shower and make that damned train!"

She purposefully stalked back into the bedroom, pulling out a sweater and jeans to wear and marched back into the bathroom. She showered quickly, looking at the clock again as she dressed, and finished stuffing everything into her suitcase. Surveying the room one last time, Laura grabbed her coat and resignedly left what had been the scene of a wonderful couple of days and what she had thought was a new beginning for her and Remington. At the front desk, she dropped her key, informing the clerk that her husband would be returning later.

"Oh, Mrs. Steele. This package was delivered for you late last night," the clerk began reaching over to get a wrapped box on the table behind her. "It's from Harrod's, I believe."

Laura inhaled sharply before replying, "Let my husband collect it when he returns."

"Will he be taking care of the bill as well?" the clerk asked politely.

"Yes, just charge everything to him. He'll take care of things..." Laura answered, "...I hope..." she muttered under her breath, turning from the desk and exiting through the front doors of the hotel lobby. Outside in the misty morning air, she signaled a passing cab and, declining the cabbie's assistance, dropped her suitcase in the boot. After one final check in her purse for her passport, wallet, and ticket, she flumped into the back seat and instructed the driver to take her to Euston Railway Station. Looking back behind her, she watched as the St. John Hotel was swallowed up by the swirling fog.


	2. Colonel Frobish

As Laura sped toward the train station, Remington was only a few miles away surveying the mess around him, angrily shoving one of the kitchen chairs to the side as he cursed, "Damn you, Daniel! Where the bloody hell did you hide it!" He had spent the better part of the early morning searching every inch of Daniel's bedsit. As each hour passed, his frustration mounted until his anger took over. He began flipping the furniture, cutting through parts of the mattress and furniture pillows. He emptied every cabinet he could and was only rewarded with a few more gems and a small stack of cash. He searched the small space in the closet again, hoping they may have missed something the night before but came up empty-handed.

Finally, he irritably submitted to the inevitable task of searching the entire premises and grabbed the large keyring on his way out the door. Most of the rooms on the second floor were in good condition, much like the bedsit Daniel was living in, although devoid of any furniture or personal items to indicate it's previous residents. On the third floor, Remington found evidence of the construction Daniel had mentioned in his letter. Ladders and paint buckets were scattered about, the rooms were bright and smelling of fresh paint.

A worn, but elegant set of stairs led to the top floor which consisted entirely of an elaborate ballroom with high ceilings and a beautifully ornate parquet floor. As he stood in the center of the ballroom, he couldn't help but appreciate the grandeur of the room. Running his hand through his hair, he shook his head slowly as he closed his eyes. Visions of Daniel smoothly posing as counts, barons and a multitude of other prestigious titles flooded his memory. They would tag team for maximum effect. While one charmed their mark, the other would pilfer private quarters or purloin jewelry in plain sight. And the most skilled aspect of their trade was convincing their marks, through cunning and shameless exploitation of their weaknesses, to willingly hand over their riches. These were the conquests that were best carried out on the dance floor.

Unbidden, Remington's hand moved to his mouth, where his fingers brushed his lips as he opened his eyes, staring straight, fully absorbed in a memory of thievery on a whole other level.

In that instant, his recollections of Daniel were replaced by his early acquaintance with Laura. One memory in particular painted itself onto the canvas of his memory, the space he was standing in reminiscent of where it had taken place. Laura and he moving in step as they waltzed and swayed together during a charity ball in Los Angeles where they had hoped to uncover a murderous plot. Laura had stunned in a simple, sophisticated backless gown of a deep red velvet. His fingers tingled with the remembrance of the soft material hugging her body as she moved gracefully in his arms as they danced. Remington smirked upon remembering his bafflement at the juxtaposition between this elegant vision and the cool, logical, aloof assessment of the suspects surrounding them as they danced. He, likewise, had kept his compliments cool and nonchalant, never wanting to reveal how much she had upset his equilibrium, his ability to keep his romantic interests detached from his heart. Inexplicably angry at himself now, he abruptly left the room, slamming the large, heavy doors behind him.

Quickly he descended the steps toward the second floor again, slowing as he reached the landing. He stopped and slumped down on the stairs, feeling defeated for the moment. Hanging his head, he rested his forearms on his knees, clasping his hands together. He sat quietly in the same position and it wasn't until his stomach rumbled noisily that he stirred. Checking his watch, he was surprised at the time.

It was after two o'clock, well past the ferry's departure time. Sighing heavily, he stood gradually, stretching his tight muscles as he straightened completely. Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, he advanced down the hall toward Daniel's flat, vaguely undecided between forging ahead or going in search of food. Once inside, he shook his head in disgust at the mess he had made during his outburst. "Not now," he muttered as he grabbed his leather jacket and pulled it on. Locking up behind him, he lumbered down the stairs toward the main entrance of the building. He glanced at the doors on the first floor, rooms he had yet to investigate, before leaving the building and stepping into the warm sunlight.

Closing and locking the door behind him, Remington explored the street to his right. Finding mostly multi-family dwellings, he continued further down the street until he came to an alleyway between two towering brick buildings where he caught a brief scent of fried food and spices as the wind gusted. On a hunch, he followed the alley, where he found a small pub tucked into the back of one of the buildings. He pulled the wooden door open and was greeted by the smell of fish and chips, spicy Chicken Tikka Masala and even a hint of tangy Piccalilli. The pub was quiet, with only two additional patrons sitting at the bar watching a soccer match on the small TV in the corner, sipping pints of beer.

Remington settled himself at the end of the bar, away from the other men. Mesmerized by the multitude of colorful and elaborate taps before him boasting an impressive array of draft beers, he nodded at the bartender and, at his recommendation, ordered a smooth flow bitter. Sipping the copper ale, he grimaced slightly at the butterscotch-like flavor. "Not what you're used to there, mate?" the bartender observed. Remington shook his head, acknowledging his usual aversion to beer. The bartender returned, "Well, you should have told me as much, mate!"

Remington lifted the pint to him with a wink, saying, "When in Rome...", and in the spirit of that notion, took a healthy swig. "What's good on the lunch menu?" he asked, smacking his glass down jovially and pulling the folded menu from the stand before him.

"Depends on what you're in the mood for. Fish and chips is always a safe bet, or the stotty cake's fresh if you're the sort of bloke who likes a sandwich for lunch. We also serve a touch of India for the well-traveled lot, if you're in for something spicier," the bartender offered.

Remington closed the menu and slid it to the side, "Fish and chips will be fine. Nice little establishment you have here. Found it by accident."

"Well, glad you did. Andrew's the name," the bartender reached across the counter extending his hand. Remington shook it firmly and replied, "Steele, Remington Steele." He began coughing, his name caught in his throat as he introduced himself. Patting his chest, he coughed again, the bartender quickly offering him a glass of water, "You okay, mate?"

Remington nodded as he cleared his throat several times, trying to find his voice again. As he had introduced himself, the realization had struck anew, that this was his name. His name, not an alias, not someone he was pretending to be. Coughing again, he answered the bartender who was watching him nervously. "I think I've been around the construction mess for too long today," he replied with a weak smile.

"Oh, you must mean the old Baker house. Colonel Frobish mentioned he'd have a crew working there. Sent quite a bit of business in my direction the last few months, he has," the man began with a smile. Remington's eyebrows shot up at the mention of Daniel's alias. "Will you be working there for a while?" Andrew asked.

"Working there? Um, no, not working there. Not now. I was just, um… searching for something the Colonel left for me," Remington said smoothly, hoping to conceal his surprise. "You've spoken to him, I take it. Colonel Frobish, I mean."

Picking up a wet glass, Andrew pulled a towel off his shoulder as he dried it. "Colonel Reginald Frobish of the Tenth Royal Hussars," he laughed. "He hasn't been around in a bit, but that's not unusual. Seems the good Colonel is off on another adventure," he added with a glance in Remington's direction.

Remington lifted his beer and saluted the bartender with a simple reply, "Something like that."

Andrew nodded, picking up another glass. "He's probably doing a bit of traveling with his son. Last time he was here he went on and on about his son making him proud. 'A father couldn't ask for more of a son' he said."

Remington remained silent but raised his eyebrows upon hearing such an admission. He was surprised, mostly because he himself had not been privy to that important piece of information at the time of Daniel speaking in these terms to a virtual stranger.

Andrew continued rambling amiably as he dried more glasses. "He even said he thought that the lad may have found the love of his life!" Now, Remington just about choked on his beer again but recovered just in time to hear him continue, "Yes, he almost seemed to get a little melancholy at that...not typical of the Colonel, mind you. But I must have imagined it because the next minute he was laughing and saying, 'Bah, who even believes in true love!'"

Andrew shook his head as he remembered the conversation, then continued, "'Still,' says he, 'she must be something special to have turned my son's head so completely.' And then he said, almost to himself really, that he had to admit that she was more deserving of him than any other woman he had ever seen on his son's arm. All in all, he seemed quite happy with the match."

"Happy with the match?!" Remington could not resist verbally reacting to this. He was flabbergasted, first, at the thought that Daniel had ever even entertained the notion of a "match" for him and second, that he had had anything good to say about Laura. "That's quite a statement coming from the Colonel! He was rather… particular… about his son's assignations over the years...from what I understand, at least...," Remington continued his thoughts out loud, "Sort of figured he had wanted the lad to continue on that path..." Andrew slowed in his task, looking a little confused at Remington's comments and was about to attempt a response when the waitress brought over Remington's plate. Thanking the woman, he quietly turned to his meal and ate in silence, ruminating on the fact that Daniel had never, in all their years together, told him about their relationship to each other, told him that he'd like to see him settle down with one woman, to build a life with one person. It was always about the con, the next big take. At length, he continued, hoping Andrew would share more stories about Daniel, "I've never known the Colonel to be so open about discussing his son's life."

Andrew dried the last glass on the tray, stacking the clean dishes on the back of the bar before he spoke again. "Colonel Frobish must have been very proud of the lad. Every time he was here, all he could do was talk about him. Never called him by name though. Always 'my boy' or 'my son'. Thought that was a bit odd, but then again, I'm just the bartender here. I see all walks of life come through those doors."

Remington finished his meal in silence as Andrew attended to the other patrons and a few new ones that had entered. He felt cheated and inexplicably irritated at having been left in the dark on such a grand scale. And this was precisely why, now, he wouldn't rest easy until he thoroughly searched the building he had inherited. If there were any nasty surprises, he wanted them resolved as quickly as possible, so that he could get on with his life. Having finished the meal, Remington reached into his pocket to pull out a few bills to pay for his meal. As he tossed the money onto the bar, Andrew returned again. "Was your meal satisfactory?"

With a half-hearted smile, Remington replied, "Just fine, mate. Thank you. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again."

"If you see Colonel Frobish, please, tell him we said hello. Last time he was here he said things were changing for the better. I hope that's true. We could use some good luck in these parts," Andrew said.

"Will do. Have a good day, sir," Remington slipped his hand into his pocket as he gestured goodbye with the other. Outside, with both hands now jammed into his pockets, he blew out a breath to calm himself and, taking long strides, made his way back to the building with renewed determination to uncover any and all secrets Daniel had left him.


	3. Grans

The train ride across the English countryside between London and Holyhead was long for Laura, her inner turmoil rendering it impossible for her to enjoy the scenery. Without her tiny cubicle of an office in which to ensconce herself amongst towers of paperwork, or clients and cases to distract her...hell, she couldn't even go for a run, she was left to experience the full magnitude of Remington's unilateral decision to act without confiding in her, effectively disappearing into the night, abandoning her, to do...what? She wasn't even sure why he left and what he was doing. So, here she was, alone to pick up the pieces and nurse her wounded...ego? Heart? The lines between the two were blurred. As such, she had to admit that she was deeply hurt by his actions and now she was caught between her anger at Remington for doing this to her for the umpteenth time and her anger at herself for once again making herself vulnerable to that kind of hurt. What was even more difficult to admit was that she loved him deeply, unreasonably, irrationally, and that was precisely why she kept falling into this trap.

_How could I be so STUPID?!_  Laura thought to herself. More than once she contemplated getting off the train and going back to confront him but she quickly squashed the idea.  _The louse is hardly worth enduring any more of this infernal train ride for any longer than absolutely necessary!_ she testily told herself.

Not a moment too soon, the train pulled into Holyhead Port and Laura was relieved to perform the menial tasks associated with disembarking the train and boarding the ferry to Ireland. No sooner were these tasks accomplished, uncertainty resettled into her mind as she finished stowing her luggage. She sat alone as the ferry slowly pulled away from the dock, intensely aware of the growing distance between Remington and herself. Again angry at herself for constantly allowing her feelings to commandeer her thoughts, she gave herself a shake and dug in her purse for the book she had purchased at Charing Cross.

After an hour of staring at it, not a single word sinking in, Laura tossed it aside. She stood and stretched her arms above her head, trying to work out the kinks that had settled into her muscles from sitting for so long.  _Fresh air might do you some good_ she thought as she moved to stand at the stern of the boat away from the other passengers. Leaning forward onto the railing, she rested her forearms on the paint chipped rail, watching the dark water.

A tear slipped down her cheek unnoticed as Laura played their phone conversation over and over in her head. Perhaps she could have said something different? Maybe her anger had obscured her true feelings. She should have told him how she felt.  _God, Laura, when will you learn to accept people for what they are and just be there for them. For him..._

Now, replacing her anger, Laura was gripped by fear. She felt a desolate cold sensation enfold her heart as she wondered if she had pushed him away again. She remembered the devastation she had seen in his eyes at the Sensitivity Spa just north of Malibu where they had quarreled without boundary. She had the power to break him and now she feared maybe she had done it again. Her stomach churned much like the water below. She hadn't noticed the older woman standing to her left until she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. Startled she stood up quickly, her arms instinctively crossing her body protectively.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. You just… you just looked so upset…" the woman stuttered.

Confused, Laura looked around, unsure if the woman was referring to someone else. "Upset? Me? No… no… I'm not…" she began but stopped when the woman handed her a tissue.

"The salt air must be in your eyes then. Happens to me every now and again. The name is Emily…. Emmy…. Or Grans to most everyone who knows me," she introduced herself. "Man troubles?" she suggested.

Laura stared at the tissue in her hand before replying, "I'm Laura Hol… Steele. Laura Steele. And it's very nice to meet you, Emily…"

"Grans… you can call me Grans," the older woman interrupted her.

Smiling, Laura corrected herself, "Very nice to meet you, Grans. From your accent, I would say you're an American. New England area from the sounds of it. Are you heading to Ireland for a visit?"

Grans returned Laura's smile as she nodded, "I guess you could call it that. My late husband, Darcy, asked for his ashes to be spread where he was born in Ireland."

Laura's mouth immediately formed an O. Feeling slightly embarrassed she said softly, "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Grans laughed loudly, taking Laura by surprise. "Don't be. He's been gone almost five years now. It's taken me that long to get up the courage to get on an airplane," she laughed.

Feeling more comfortable, Laura laughed with her. Looking back over the water, she sighed before taking a deep breath. Hugging herself, she rubbed her arms and said, "Grans, it's getting a little cooler out here. Would you like to go inside, see if we can find a cup of coffee maybe?"

"Coffee sounds delightful," Grans replied. The two women found their way toward the concessions room, ordered coffee and a pastry, and brought their treats back to the seats where Laura had left her bag. "How did you know I was from New England?" Grans asked.

"My mother's family is from Connecticut and my sister just moved back to California from there. The accents are quite distinct. Not like in Los Angeles. That's where we live and work. We are private investigators. Own our own firm," Laura explained.

"You and your husband? Are you visiting Ireland as well? He must be out and about the ferry looking for you," Grans looked around, expecting to see a gentleman looking for her. Laura shifted in her seat at the mention of the word husband.

"No… no, my… husband," Laura swallowed around the word, "he had to stay back in London… some family business to take care of."

"Oh, oh that's too bad. Is he the one that had you upset outside? Do you miss him? You must be newlyweds! That explains everything," Grans exclaimed.

Looking down at her lap, Laura contemplated her reply. "We are… we got married under unusual circumstances… so our families are coming to Ireland next weekend so we can…" Laura choked on the words, the tears filling her eyes before she could stop them.

Grans quickly put her coffee cup on the chair beside her and pulled Laura into a tight hug. "There, there, Laura. It's going to be fine. I'm sure whatever it is that has you so upset will work itself out just fine. Believe me, you are certainly not the first, and won't be the last women to shed tears over a man! We've all been there, Dear," the older woman comforted Laura who was fighting the tears by closing her eyes tightly then blinking rapidly.

Laura hugged Grans back, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. As they leaned away from each other, they heard the announcement over the speaker that the ferry would be docking in just a few minutes. Grans stood up quickly and declared, "I should find where I left my bag. Not going to do me any good to come all the way to Ireland and lose his ashes now will it?"

Laura laughed a little hesitantly, and replied, "Here, let me help you find it. All my stuff is together and it will only take me a minute to get it." She quickly pulled on her jacket, put her book in her purse. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she lifted her suitcase and followed Grans to the bow of the ferry where she found her bag tucked away under a bench. Together the two women sat near the gangplank exit so they could depart easily and chatted amiably while they waited.

Twenty minutes later they affectionately parted ways on the dock. Laura spotted Terrence waiting for her as Grans waved to someone on the other side. They gave each other one more quick hug, Grans promising Laura once again all will be righted as they separated. Terrence stepped forward to take Laura's suitcase from her as he asked, "Will his Lordship be right along, My Lady?"

"No, Terrence, his… Lordship…. Had to remain in London," Laura replied as she climbed into the back seat.

Putting the suitcase in the truck, Terrence climbed into the driver's seat and asked, "Will he be returning soon?"

Laura didn't answer his question. Instead, she stated, "To Ashford Castle, please, Terrence. It's been a long day of traveling."

Terrence glanced into the rearview mirror to see Laura's face. She was looking out the window at the ferry, her hand on the glass. Without saying another word, he pulled away and began the long drive toward the Castle.

The monotonous countryside and the rocking of the car eventually lulled Laura to sleep. She was emotionally drained from her relentless internal battle of anger over anguish and didn't have the energy to put on a happy visage for anyone. Terrence watched over her during the ride, worried. Although he didn't know Laura very well, he could tell by her furrowed brow, even in her sleep, she was troubled by something that had happened in London.

He woke her just before they pulled into the long driveway at the castle. Laura rubbed her face with her hands, smoothed her hair and plastered on a smile as they pulled up to the front doors. Terrence held her car door open and offered to carry her bag up to the master suite to which she replied, "No, thank you, Terrence, I can get it." Without another word, Laura climbed the stairs and disappeared into her bedchamber.

Behind the closed door, Laura leaned against the closed door, her eyes looking upwards as if the ceiling held all the answers. With a deep breath, she regained her composure and crossed the room to place her suitcase on the bed. She had just removed her jacket when there was a knock at the door and opened it to find Mickeline standing in the hall. "Good evening, Mrs. Steele. So glad to have you back at Ashford Castle. Would you like the cook to whip up an evening meal? You must be hungry after your long day of traveling," he said.

Laura tried to remember what she had eaten all day and the only thing she could come up with was the few bites of the pastry she had purchased with Gran on the ferry and a few cups of coffee throughout the day. Shaking her head, she declined, "No, thank you, Mickeline. I'm not very hungry. Just looking forward to a hot shower and some sleep."

"Terrence mentioned his Lordship didn't return with you. Will he be needing to be picked up at the ferry as well another day?" Mickeline asked slowly. Terrence had shared his concern that something may have happened in London between the Steeles.

"Mr. Steele is currently hung up in London on some personal business. When he has his itinerary set, I'll be sure to pass on the information," Laura answered stiffly.

"Good evening then, Mrs. Steele. I hope you have a restful night," Mickeline turned away as Laura started to close the door, then paused and called him back,

"Oh, Mickeline..." Mickeline turned back and swiftly returned to her door.

"Yes, your Ladyship?"

"You haven't forgotten about the Brunch on Sunday, have you? We are expecting Mr. Steele's extended family at 11."

"No, I haven't forgotten. It's just a matter of finalizing the numbers."

"Oh, certainly..." Laura kneaded her forehead with a thumb and two fingers, looking slightly troubled and continued, "...well, I'm not sure how many to expect..."

Mickeline stepped in to assure her, "As long as you know by tomorrow noon. Cook would need that to time visit the green grocer for the necessary ingredients. In the meantime, the East Wing parlor and breakfast room have been prepared to welcome your guests."

Laura looked relieved, "Thank you, Mickeline. I will find out tomorrow morning when I see Sarah and will let you or Cook know straight away. Goodnight."

"Not at all, Your Ladyship! Pleased to be of service. The staff is most excited to be having guests. It has been a very long time! And Mrs. Steele, don't hesitate to ring me if you should find yourself peckish a little later." He finished with a smile and a slight bow and disappeared down the hall.

Laura closed the door wearily with a deep sigh, grateful for Mickeline's diligence. Stripping off her blouse, she crossed the room and pulled out a pair of pajamas before heading into the bathroom. She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and after divesting herself of her remaining clothing, she stepped into the hot spray.

Before she knew it, she had tilted her head back to wash her hair, heedless of the injury on her scalp, and the water immediately stung the line of stitches. "DAMN!" she cursed, jerking her head out of the spray, the air hissing between her teeth as she inhaled sharply. She reached up, her hand trembling, as it hovered just over the injury until the stinging subsided. Her head drooping dejectedly, she carefully carried on with the task at hand, applying shampoo to most of her hair, cursing again as the soapy water splashed on the tender injury, causing a burning sensation that brought tears to her eyes. "I should have figured this out before now," she berated herself out loud, and then added bitterly, "I grew too dependent on having HIM look after me."

She remained in the shower with her eyes closed for a little while, the hot water pelting her skin, and realized how sore her muscles were after sitting for most of the day. "Mmm, a massage would feel…." her eyes snapped back open as she remembered her current predicament; no Remington, no foot or back massages, nor massages of any kind, no...she stopped that train of thought and grimaced. She slapped the tile angrily, her hand creating a splat sound against the cool porcelain. "No, I DON'T need him. I've done just fine before, I can take care of myself again."

Pushing herself off the wall, Laura turned the handle to the off position before snapping the curtain open. She dried herself quickly, yanking on her pajamas. Brushing her teeth, she exited the bathroom, pulling a brush through her hair slowly to avoid hurting her head any further. She took one glance at the bed, deciding she wasn't going to move her suitcase. She pulled two pillows off the bed as well as the blanket off the end and made her way over to the couch where she curled up. It wasn't until she took a deep breath and the scent of Remington's cologne wafted off the pillows, that she allowed the tears to fall. It was no use...she missed him terribly and the uncertainty of the current circumstances, the not knowing, not understanding, were shaking her to the very foundation of her being. She held tightly to the pillow and cried herself to sleep.


	4. Siobhan

Remington unlocked the great front door and stepped through the dim entryway of the building that Daniel had bequeathed to him. He stood for a moment, scratching the back of his neck, and looking up the stairs first, then down the long hallway before him. With a deep breath and a decisive nod of his head, he pulled off his jacket, hanging it on the end of the bannister, and rolled up his sleeves in preparation for the dusty search that lay ahead.

Choosing the far end, the first door he opened was to an enclosed stairwell. Figuring he had covered the upper floors already, he turned to the right and headed down the stairs to the door at the bottom. As soon as he opened it, he quickly ruled out the idea that Daniel would have hidden anything down there. Judging by the thick layers of dust and dirt that covered the floor and the equipment and the cobwebs that hung from the exposed pipes above, Remington determined that this space had not been disturbed in the recent past, and was torn between relief and jittery nerves that he had only the first floor rooms left to examine. On the one hand, his search was almost over, on the other, if he did not find anything else from Daniel, he feared the uneasy void his un-answered questions would leave.

Back up on the first floor, he started another systematic search of each room. The first two he entered were completely empty, the late day sun streaming in through the large windows, casting shadows across the hardwood floors.

Opening the third door, Remington felt a rush of triumph when he observed the cleanliness of the room. It had been swept, and a solid oak desk and large leather chair facing the door had been placed in the center of the room. On the desk sat nothing more than a phone, a cup of pencils and a work order. Remington picked up the work order and scanned the list, deciphering the shorthand of the writer, to discover it was only a list from the painters. He pulled open each drawer, searching inside and underneath. He crawled under the desk to check for hidden compartments. Finding none, he stood and slammed his hands off the top of the desk, frustrated again. He flipped the chair over, searching for tears or for any indication that anything could have been hidden there. Finding none, he righted the chair and sat down, his elbows on the desk, his chin resting on his folded hands. "You're a bloody fool, Remington Steele!", he said to himself, shaking his head, "If Laura were here, she'd find it."

With a swipe of his mouth, he stood abruptly, carelessly pushing back the chair, the scraping of it on the hardwood floor grating the air and bouncing raucously back and forth off the bare walls, as if recklessly willing the secrets to shake free. Instead, the deafening silence only served to magnify the empty space by his side. After a couple of more empty rooms and fruitless searches, Remington's mood darkened further. He sat on the steps, elbows pinned to his knees, a reluctant hand propping up his chin, the other hanging dejectedly between his legs.

He was reminded of another time he had felt this way, another time he had acted independently, and Laura was there to bolster his spirits. " _You're still Remington Steele!"_ , she had said, a warm hand on his arm. Alright, she had ulterior motives, namely exposing a killer, but they served many purposes, least of which were to acknowledge that he made a damn good Remington Steele!

But without his Miss Holt, he was as incomplete as she was without him. They were a team. " _And teams should stick together!"_  she had said another time.

Once again he was sorry he had sent her away and had made a decision without telling her. He vowed to himself right then and there that he would never do that again. He had never felt the importance of her in his life more keenly than at this moment, and he sat up straight with a sense of renewed purpose. It was time for him to finish this search and return to his wife's side where he belonged.

He stood and, running his hand through his hair, he jumped slightly when he felt a cobweb. He hastily pulled it off, flicking the offending strands away, and thoroughly checked himself, brushing his hair and shirt vigorously. Relieved to be cobweb free, he patted his chest resolutely before proceeding to the next door. Taking a deep breath he opened it, stepping into what was, once again, a mostly empty room. This room faced away from the afternoon sun, the shadows deeper, darkening the dusty corners. Remington scanned the scant furniture scattered about. Everything was covered with dust and he had just about dismissed the room when something caught his eye.

Hanging on the far wall, hidden in shadow was the same portrait they had found in Daniel's loft, a very faded image of Queen Elizabeth II wearing a white gown with a blue shoulder sash. Although a long strand of cobweb had settled across it, Remington immediately discarded the idea that this room was not important. With long strides, he crossed the room, examining the wall around the frame of the portrait. Not finding anything unusual around it, he carefully lifted the portrait off the wall, revealing what appeared to be a wall safe.

He looked around the room for an additional light source as the room was becoming darker by the minute. Not finding anything he suddenly snapped his fingers, remembering the key fob flashlight Daniel had left him. He tapped his pants pockets and recalled that he had left the smaller keyring in his jacket pocket. With a lively spring in his step, he returned to where his jacket still hung off the bannister, quickly finding the keyring. He hadn't even noticed that he was whistling until he had returned and heard the joyful sound echoing around the empty room.

Using the small light, he inspected the front of the safe. He saw nothing out of the ordinary so, leaning forward, he spun the dial, listening carefully for the tell tale sounds of the wheels and flies, clicking satisfactorily to indicate that the notches were lining up. Hearing the final gratifying click of the fence falling into place, Remington turned the handle downward and pulled the safe open. He reached inside and pulled out two envelopes , one large one standard, letter-sized, both addressed to him. Illuminating the safe's cavity with the key fob flashlight, he checked to make sure nothing was left behind. Laying the envelopes on an abandoned chair, Remington locked the safe and carefully repositioned the portrait, mumbling cheekily, "Much obliged, Your Royal Highness", as he straightened it gingerly, taking care not to alter it's neglected appearance. With one more sweeping look around the room, Remington closed the door behind him, the envelopes in hand, grabbing his jacket as he took the stairs two by two up to Daniel's loft.

Inside the brightly lit room, Remington unceremoniously pushed everything off the table in front of the settee as he sat down and laid his finds out before him. Unsure which to open first, he impatiently selected one with a shrug of his shoulders. He untucked the flap of the white envelope and peered inside, finding within it, a folded piece of paper, yellowed and fragile looking. He carefully removed it and, as he opened it, a small black and white photograph drifted to the table. Abandoning the letter for the moment, he picked up the image, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, and was immediately struck by the woman staring back at him. She was eerily familiar, her features so much like his own. She had long dark hair and light colored eyes. She was thin, although he could see her hands lovingly curled around her rounded belly. She had a smile on her face, her eyebrows lifted as if she was caught mid-laugh. Flipping the picture over, he read the inscription by Daniel's hand, "Siobhán and her Acushla, March 1953".

With shaking hands, he placed the picture on the table and picked up the accompanying paper. Carefully he unfolded the delicate paper and focused on the scratchy faded words.

_My Dearest Daniel,_

_I miss you every day. These last few months since you've been gone have been difficult. As your babe moves within my womb, I am reminded how much you are missing. I do not regret anything but look forward to our future where we can raise our Acushla together. Tomorrow, I will move in with Mara in County Galway until our babe is born. I hope to move out afterwards and find a place for us to live. I will send word when we are settled._

_All my love,_

_Siobhán_

Remington took in the words before him, his eyes darting from the picture to the fragile sheet in his hand. His breathing shallow, he bit his bottom lip, fighting the turbulence of emotions in his chest.  _My...Mother!... She wanted a life with Daniel,_ he thought to himself incredulously.  _She wanted to be with him. She wanted me!_

Placing the paper back on the table, he held just the photograph in his hand as he covered his mouth with the other. A single tear slid down his cheek at the revelation he was loved right from the beginning, something he had never dared to feel. Wiping his cheek, he gently placed the photograph and the letter back into the envelope and turned his attention to the large envelope.

Taking a deep breath, he opened it, muttering lightly, "Well, Daniel, old boy, that's going to be a tough act to follow, but let's have at it, shall we?"

He pulled out the contents, a handwritten letter and a typed document. He scanned the typed one first, knitting his eyebrows in concentration, trying hard to follow the legal jargon on the page before he gave up and placed it back on the table. The handwritten letter was much shorter and easier to understand.

_Dear Remington,_

_That would have taken some getting used to. What a moniker! But, you know, it suits you and I am pleased that it has been made official._

_Harry, the long and short of our tale is simply this. You have made me immeasurably proud in your pursuit of an honest life and that is why I hope you will carry on this legacy I leave you. Use this building to protect boys from growing up the way you did. Give them a place they can call home, learn and grow, and to develop skills that will ensure_ _them a chance at a better_   _life. You have your mother's heart so I know you will rise to the challenge I have given you._

_You will likely have guessed Mr. Taylor can help you. He has been an old friend and knows much more than he'll ever let on. He has been given instructions once you bring the attached document to him. Reach out to those you can trust. Katherine Galt, the Earl's soon to be wife will be one of your biggest supporters. I have already spoken with her. She can help direct you to others here in London. Accept her help and Taylor's guidance._

_If you are reading these letters alone, all I can say is, go back to your Miss Holt. Once in a lifetime you meet the woman who captures your heart. Don't ever take it for granted. It was plain to see the devotion you two felt for each other. It is with her you belong._

_So Harry, my boy, until we meet again._

_Daniel_

_PS. Don't worry about the list in the briefcase. It's nothing more than that - a list, my boy. Feel free to burn away your past. D_

Remington laughed loudly as he read the end of Daniel's letter. "Ah, Daniel. Well done, old chap. I'll take up the torch for you," he announced.

Returning the papers to the envelope, Remington stood and surveyed the chaos he had created around him. He spent the next hour righting furniture, picking up books and items off the floor where he had discarded them in his haste and frustration. When the room was orderly once more, Remington placed the envelopes from the safe in the briefcase and stood to leave. After turning out all the lights and locking up, Remington stood outside on the street and hailed a cab, feeling at peace for the first time since the attorney appeared at Ashford Castle, summoning him to London.

Before stepping into the waiting vehicle, he turned to look up at the tall building that promised so much. His eyes traveled higher to the brilliant cotton candy clouds that graced the sunset sky. He smiled enigmatically, his eyes dropping as he turned to sit in the cab. "The St. John's Hotel, my good man. And don't spare the rubber."

As he collected his room key from the front desk, the clerk handed him a package. "What's this?" he asked, confused.

"A delivery, from Harrods late last night. Mrs. Steele told the staff to give it to you," the clerk explained.

"Ah, yes, Harrod's. Thank you, thank you very much indeed." His eyebrows furrowed as he asked, "Did um… did my wife say anything else this morning?" Remington asked.

"Just that you would be taking care of the bill, sir," the clerk smiled at him.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure she did. Can I ask if you might have a copy of the train schedule to Holyhead?" he asked with a smile. The clerk handed him a folded pamphlet. Pressing it into his inside jacket pocket and scooping up the parcel, he headed toward the elevators. He rode up to his room in silence, mentally planning what needed to be done to get him back to Ireland as quickly as possible.

Conflicting feelings coursed through his mind. He was eager to share his findings from his search of the building with Laura, but was now fairly certain that she might not be too happy to see him. The parcel of his surprise purchase of the clothing Laura had modelled so effectively at Harrod's was evidence of that. She didn't even bother opening it. Not a typical course of action for the insatiably curious Miss Holt. She had probably guessed what was in it, and rejected it in a huff. Nevertheless he was determined to put all of this behind them and if there would be a bit of kicking and screaming, so be it.  _Afterall_ , he thought to himself,  _faint heart never won fair lady!_  He had to further admit to himself that that quote was from an animated Disney movie, a musical nonetheless. Robin Hood, 1973, starring a menagerie of anthropomorphized forest animals.

Hours later,after eating and packing, Remington lay in bed watching the only movie he could find, "On the Waterfront" (Marlon Brando, Karl Malden Columbia Pictures 1954). But it wasn't diverting enough to get the image of Laura walking toward him in a stunning evening gown, the vision of her alluring assets through the sheer fabric second only to her face, her lips, her soft glowing skin... _This won't do!_  Now he would never get to sleep. But the exhaustion from the rigours of the day soon overpowered him. It may only have been his imagination, but as he drifted off to sleep he could smell her perfume enshrouding him, caressing him, comforting him.


	5. Abigail

Laura woke Saturday morning, her neck stiff and her back sore from the uncomfortable position in which she found herself, curled up on the couch. Stretching her legs out slowly, she groaned as her muscles protested until finally, she was on her feet.

As she crossed the room heading toward the bathroom she glanced outside at the lough. The rising sun glinted off the water, it's light broken into thousands of fragments, sparkling across the ripples of the water's surface. She walked over and leaned on the windowsill, captivated by the shimmering display and quickly decided that a run along the glittering waterway may help brighten her mood. She dressed quickly, jogging down the stairs toward the kitchen, finding Mickeline and Cook chatting over a pile of fresh baked scones and tea.

"Mrs. Steele, you're awake bright and early this morning. Would you care for a scone?" The cook asked politely.

"And tea, please. Looks like the weather has finally made a change for the better," Laura remarked as she lifted a warm scone off the pile and onto a plate the cook offered her.

"Aye, that it does. Sun's warm, air is fresh, beautiful day to head outside for a spell," Mickeline replied, as Cook set about preparing a cup of tea for Laura and setting out the milk and sugar for her. "Oh, by the by, Mrs. Steele", Mickeline continued, "my niece, Kaitlyn, was wondering when it would be a good time to stop by to show you her portfolio. If you're still needing her services, that is."

Chewing slowly, Laura swallowed hard, the scone going down with as much difficulty as her coming up with the right words to answer his query. "When Mr. Steele returns, we will be in touch with her to make the necessary arrangements." she managed slowly, gratefully turning her attention to the cup of tea that Cook was offering her. "Have you spoken to Mildred recently?" she asked Mickeline in an effort to make neutral conversation as she ate.

A smile creased Mickeline's face that he couldn't hide as he spoke, "Yes, Millie…er, Miss Krebs and I spoke yesterday. And mighty glad we did! She had some grand notions about making Ashford prosperous and assured to give us some pointers on straightening out the books when she returns…. Monday, I believe she said."

Laura hid a little smile and nodded in affirmation, "Yes, Mildred should be arriving late Monday afternoon." Then, giving him a sidelong glance, she ventured a veiled suggestion, "I know she'll be needing a ride from the airport."

"I'll check my schedule, but I think I'm clear. Terrence will be off for the day..."Mickeline took the bait, then rushed to clarify, "Some personal business to attend to I believe he mentioned."

Finishing her tea and scone, Laura stood to bring her dishes over to the sink, but Cook stopped her, saying, "Allow me, your Ladyship." With a nod of gratitude, she turned to Mickeline, "I'm going out for a run along the grounds should anyone need…." her voice trailed off at the idea that someone would need her. Mildred was in California and, considering the current hour there, she was likely asleep. Remington was… well, she didn't want to think about him right now. "...Well, you know where to find me."

"If I need you, I'll be sure to send the search party out to find you," Mickeline joked, "And I'll have Cook prepare you a nice breakfast for when you return," Mickeline added, nodding to the cook to set it in motion.

"Thank you, Mickeline," Laura replied as she left through the back door off the kitchen, the silvery morning sunshine silhouetting her retreating form.

She had only been gone a few minutes when Mickeline heard the phone ringing in his office and rushed to answer it, "Hello? Ashford Castle."

"Mickeline, my good man, it's Mr. Steele! Is my wife available by any chance?" Remington's jovial voice bellowed through the phone.

"Ah, you just missed her, your Lordship. Headed out for a run, she was," Mickeline explained. "Seems a bit melancholy today though, not her usual self. She arrived last night and passed on an offering for a meal and this morning only snacked on one simple scone and a cup of tea. So I'm having Cook fix her something for breakfast when she returns. She's not ill, is she? Perhaps that injury she received last weekend is bothersome."

"No, mate. It's not the injury that's set her off." Remington shook his head, absently studying the rug's pattern on the floor of the hotel suite. He took a deep breath and paused before looking up anew, his blue eyes scanning the view outside the window as he continued, "Listen, Mickeline, I should be arriving at the docks late this afternoon. Will Terrence be available to collect me?"

"Yes, your Lordship. I'll make certain to make those arrangements for you. What time should he be expecting you?" Mickeline asked.

Reaching for the schedule pamphlet, Remington replied, "Well, if I catch the next train I should make it back by six. Otherwise, I won't make it back until just past eight."

Following a brief pause, Mickeline answered, "I'll have Terrence there by seven. There's a fine pub handy to the station. One of you can have a nice meal either way."

"Thank-you very much indeed, Mickeline. I'll… um… I'll try to call Mrs. Steele in a bit. I have an appointment I need to get to this morning, but I'll try calling once again before I leave." Remington explained. "Tell Terrence I shall see him this evening." Hearing the phone click, Mickeline placed the receiver in the cradle and left his office to go and find Terrence.

Outside, Laura was struggling to keep her pace along the water, her poor appetite over the past couple of days and subsequent lack of sufficient food having drained her of her normal energy levels, so it was with relief that she slowed her strides to a walk as she neared the stables. Hearing voices from within, she called out, "Hello? Anyone working in here?"

"Mrs. Steele! How are you feeling?" Pace appeared at the open door, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a rag.

"Hello, Pace! I'm fine thank-you! How are you feeling? You're not overdoing it are you?" Laura asked, her voice thick with concern.

Pace shook his head, "No, no way. Sarah would have my head. I'm just trying to sweep out the stalls as best as I can. It may not pass inspection today but give me another few days, I'll take another go at it."

"How is Sarah doing? I haven't seen her all week. Mr. Steele and I had to travel to London unexpectedly," Laura explained.

Pace smiled, his blue eyes bright, "She's uncomfortable. The babe doesn't let her get more than a few hours of sleep before she's in the loo again. I told her she might as well get used to it. Babe's going to be doing that all night the first few months anyway." Pace couldn't contain his laughter. He was so excited about the baby and even thinking about it put a silly grin on his face.

Laura laughed with him, his giddiness not lost on her, then, remembering something, continued, "Do you think Sarah would be up for a bit of shopping with me today? I had promised her I would take her into Dublin when we got back, pick up a few things for the baby. Mr. Steele and I had discussed purchasing you a gift...as a thank-you… for what you did in the mines," she said.

Pace's eyes grew round and his eyebrows shot up, "You mean that? Sarah hasn't been to Dublin since she was a little girl."

"Let me just head back, shower and then I'll surprise her and pick her up," Laura suggested. Just as she turned to leave, Paddy and Christian appeared from inside the barn.

"I thought we heard you talking to someone out here," Paddy declared.

"I thought you were just trying to get out of working more," Christian teased. "Mrs. Steele, how are you feeling today?" he asked with a smile.

Laura smiled at the handsome young man as she replied, "Much better, thank you. I was out for a run but I guess that might be pushing it a bit for me right now. Perhaps I should get a little more to eat...but afterwards I will get ready and come by to pick up Sarah." She finished, turning back to Pace.

The men nodded and Paddy said, "Sarah will love that. Just to get out of the house for a bit. And Mrs. Steele, the brunch is still going ahead? I can't tell you how excited the family is to see Seanie…. Remington again. Did he decide on a time? We try to attend Sunday services at nine o'clock…"

Laura bit her lip, unsure if Remington had intended to maintain the plans that they had made or if he would make it back on time, or, for that matter, if he was coming back at all! But, she had no choice other than to stick with the original plan and acknowledged. Finally, she said, "I believe we had said around Eleven? Mr. Steele is still in London taking care of some business right now, but…"

"Eleven o'clock is perfect! And you're sure he's ready for us? The whole family?" Paddy asked excitedly.

Laura nodded slowly as she replied, "As ready as he's ever going to be. How many shall we plan for?"

Paddy lifted his eyes upward, mentally calculating everyone he had spoken to before replying, "Twenty-eight including the children. There are still a few I haven't heard from."

Laura blinked, trying to hide her disbelief and repeated in a small voice, "Twenty-eight?"

"Yes, well, not everyone can make it on such short notice. Usually, when have gatherings, we need to rent out the church hall!" Paddy explained, then he unexpectedly threw his arms around Laura and gave her a bear hug before stepping back, "We have a surprise for him. I hope he likes it."

Laura, having recovered from her initial shock and realizing she should count herself lucky, considering how many there could have been, replied, "Oh, Mr. Steele loves surprises." Clearing her throat she announced, "I should probably head back and get ready so I can pick up Sarah sooner rather than later. I'd like to return when it's still daylight. Mr. Steele might know these roads in the dark, but I'd rather not misplace myself and a woman with child!"

Pace laughed as he replied, "Sarah's not going to be of any help to you either. She doesn't drive. Has no use for it she says. Do you want me to have Christian drive me over so she'll be ready? Won't take long. I could use a break anyway." He emphasized his point by rubbing his sore ribs.

Laura nodded, "Please. Let her know I'll be by within the hour." Turning back toward the castle, Laura walked quickly, checking her watch. Entering through the back kitchen door, she gratefully accepted the breakfast Cook had prepared for her and sat down to eat it at the kitchen table.

Just as she was finishing up, she heard the phone ringing and Mickeline answering, "Hello, Ashford Castle. Ah, your Lordship. I believe she is having a bite to eat..."

Laura wiped her mouth and desperately trying to tamp down the nervous butterflies she felt in her stomach. She wanted to talk to him, but struggled to get past feeling betrayed by him. After all this time, she wondered why he didn't recognize her desire to make things better for everyone. She felt powerless without knowledge in any given situation. If he had confided in her, everything would have been fine. But now, she coudn't shake the notion that they had taken a step back and that in itself begged the question; where do they go from here? Cook came and collected her plates, before she could pick them up herself, so lost she was in her musings. Nodding her thanks, she turned away, looking toward the door through which she had heard Mickeline answer the phone, just as he appeared there, and said, "Mr. Steele on the line for you, your Ladyship."

Concealing her hesitation, she answered, "Thank-you Mickeline. I'm coming." She strode over to the phone, her chin held high and picked up the receiver, "Hello?"

"Laura! Out and about early this morning, are you?" Remington asked cheerfully.

"Yes, well, I went for a run," she replied, keeping her answer short. He doesn't seem to be any worse for wear! The moment she had heard his chipper voice her frustration had reared up at his seeming lack of concern over the situation.

"You think that best? After all, you're still heal…" he began but she cut him off quickly.

"Does one of us have a reason why I'm talking to you?" Laura couldn't stop her grousing. How DARE he care now, when he didn't care enough to confide in me when it counted? She fumed to herself. Rubbing her forehead with two fingers and breathing deeply, she fought to keep her anger at bay. After all, making a scene in front of the staff did not seem like a good idea.

Remington hardly flinched, her anger rolling off him like rain from a duck's feathers, so elated was he at having found his answers. "'Les jeux sont fini', Mme. Steele. Aside from tying up a few loose ends, 'the game will be up'." Remington stated cryptically.

Laura narrowed her eyes, confused by his statement, "What game?!...", her voice radiating her ire.

Remington jumped in to answer, holding his hand out at the receiver, his fingers a blur, quivering back and forth, as if he could placate her through the phone. "You won't BELIEVE what I have learned!"

"You're unBELIEVable, alright!" Laura's mood did not improve one bit.

Remington shook his head slightly, a pained expression saddening his eyes, as they looked pleadingly at the air in front the of him. How could he explain all the events in the last twenty four hours to Laura without showing her the letters and the picture of his mother? No. he thought to himself, It will have to wait... For now, he hoped she would have just enough faith to get them over this hurdle. In the meantime, he would try to to reassure her. "Laura, I have meeting this morning to officially resolve things once and for all, so we can go on with our lives without the threat of Daniel's past, or mine, hanging over us."

"Oh?" Laura softened at that, feeling a glimmer of hope.

Remington felt heartened at her change in tone and continued hurriedly. "If all goes well, I should be…" he tried to explain, but she cut him off once more, frustrated again at the question marks in her head.

"If?!...what do you mean, 'IF'?...and WHAT needs to go well?" Laura tried to understand what he was saying, but Remington hastily dismissed her query, not wanting to get into any long explanations, "Laura, I cannot go into it, but I assure you, it's for a worthy cause!"

"And I should trust you why?!..." Laura could not prevent her sharp tongue from lashing out, and then she let out an exasperated "Oh!" and, realizing she was only going to say unreasonable things, said, "Look, I just told Pace I would take Sarah shopping in an hour and I don't fancy the idea of keeping her guessing as to my whereabouts should I be late!" she barked just before slamming down the phone.

"Laura, I'll be ba…" Remington had begun once more but was cut off by the buzzing of the line.

Laura took a deep breath and, shaking her head in defeat, turned to go up the stairs. The phone rang again and Laura froze midstep. She stomped back to the phone, snapping it up and, through clenched teeth, ground out, "Now what?"

"LAU-RA!," Laura blanched as Abigail's accusing tone cut across the line, "Is that how I taught you to answer the phone?!" Casting her head toward the ceiling, Laura closed her eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of her nose as she winced.

She quickly collected herself and, acting as if nothing had happened, said smoothly and calmly, "Hello Mother. How nice to hear from you. How is the weather in Connectic..."

"Was it too much to hope that living in a castle would raise the level of your behaviour accordingly?" Abigail cut her off unceremoniously.

"Mother, I..." Laura began, but Abigail continued relentlessly, "Still letting your temper get the better of you, I see. Are you going to be hiding in laundry hampers all your life? Your Mr. Steele is a good catch! You should count yourself lucky that..."

"MOTHER!" Laura cried, halting her Mother's barrage. Laura took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Steele isn't here."

There was a silence, and then, "What do you mean he isn't there? Did he break it off?!" Laura was about to say "No!" when Abigail continued, "Doesn't he know what a good catch you are?!" Laura was flabbergasted at that, her mouth hanging open in shock as Abigail marched on. "I don't care how handsome he is! If he doesn't see what's right in front of his nose!..."

"Did you really mean that, Mother?"

"What's that, Dear?"

"You think I'm a...a...good catch?" Laura cringed a little at the demeaning analogy.

"Of course, I do! Laura, you are the most accomplished, determined and successful woman I know. And you have been that way ever since you were very, very, young. I remember when you were a little girl...about 6 or 7, maybe even 5,...I used to hear you and Frances and the neighborhood children playing while I made supper. The other kids were quite a bit older than you and tried to exclude you from their escapades. One of the boys, several years older than you, and quite a lot bigger, said, "Come on baby Holt. You're way too young to come with us! You just don't understand..." Just as I peeked my head out the window I saw you stretch to your 4-and-half-foot pig-tailed height, your little fists pinned to your hips, saying, bold as brass, "No, YOO don' undastand! I'm not a baby and I can do anything YOO can!..." Laura started to smile, cradled her head on the receiver of the phone, and joined in to finish the story with Abigail, "...And my name is Lauwa!" They both chuckled and Laura slowly spun on the ball of her foot to perch herself up on the stool that stood by the telephone table.

"Your Father and I were very proud of you, Laura. And we knew you would go far. Granted, it wasn't exactly the field I envisioned for you, and I hoped you would settle down, but you have done well for yourself! I'm still proud of you and I know he would be too!... But I AM surprised at your Mr. Steele! He seemed very fond of you..."

"Mother, Mr. Steele and I haven't broken up. We're just...not seeing eye to eye at the moment."

"Do you love him?"

Laura was taken aback by Abigail's forthright question which left no room for ambiguity.

Suddenly tears welled up in her eyes and a lump in her throat prevented her from speaking, however, a little whimper escaped before she could stop it.

Abigail spoke again, shocked at Laura's reaction, "Laura?... You DO love him! This is wonderful!"

"What's so wonderful about it?" Laura wailed.

"Laura you have always been so focused on your career, I was surprised when you moved in with Wilson. And then he broke your heart and I feared you would never be open to love again. How did it happen?"

"I don't know..." Laura moaned, "I've always had a soft spot for him..."

"He's VERY handsome..."

"Uch, Mother! It's more than that!..."

"Well, he IS the boss..."

"MOther!" Laura's tear-stained face flashed angrily.

"Well, whatever it is...nothing else matters other than the fact that you love each other."

"How do I know he loves me?" Laura was afraid to ask, but had to.

"Well, does it really matter? First of all, you must have SOME idea! But either way, your love should eclipse any other issues. Yes, it hurts, but as long as you are true to that love."

There was a pause while Laura pondered that concept, and then Abigail spoke again, "You know, Laura, I was devastated when your Father left us, but I never stopped loving him and I have no regrets. I know he loved me, but sometimes people change and their needs change. There were things I didn't understand and things I didn't even know, and it hurts to this day...I guess I just wasn't one of the lucky ones…however, I wouldn't change a thing. And I CERtainly wouldn't change having fallen in love!"

Quiet tears flowed again and Laura murmured, "I miss Daddy."

"Don't let his leaving keep you from loving, Laura." Abigail urged. Laura heard a deep sigh from her. "Well, I suppose your plans are on hold for the moment?"

Laura gave herself a shake realizing people had plans to make and answered with as much confidence as she could muster, "No...no...as far as I know, everything will proceed as planned..."

"Well, there you are! That's what I like to hear! I have a feeling your pride may be the cause of your unhappiness Laura." Abigail's customary captious tone had returned in full force as she placed the onus squarely back on Laura's shoulders. "And you know what they say! Pride goeth before the fall!"

"MO...!" Laura's pique raised again, she started to argue the point, but her Mother couldn't, or wouldn't, hear her.

"You should talk to your Mr. Steele. Get him back from wherever he has gone off to and give him a real lady-of-the-house 'Welcome Home'. Prepare a nice meal...with candles...offer him his robe and slippers...and make yourself pretty for your man. But no hanky panky! You're not married yet, not even engaged!"

Laura bit her lip hard as she listened to Abigail's ridiculous lecture. She was about to give her a piece of her mind when Abigail added, "And Dear,..."

"Yes, Mother dearest?" Laura answered, her voice dripping with affectation.

Her sarcastic tone was lost on Abigail, "Don't wear your hair up. It's too severe for your features." Laura was speechless. Just when she thought she had made a breakthrough with her Mother, the woman turned around and spewed out all that good-little-housewife's dogma!

Once again, she missed the opportunity to offer a retort as Abigail changed the subject yet again.

"Well, I didn't call to interfere with your relationship right now but I did call to check… Did he say the formal dinner was going to be black and white with what color?" Abigail asked.

"Green, emerald green," Laura replied through her teeth.

"That's what I thought. Well, dear, I'll let you go. It's Bridge Night and I'm hosting, so I have a dozen things to do. If you manage to get to the altar one day with that boss of yours, you'll get to know what that means. Good-bye Dear! See you in a few days!"" Abigail chimed before she hung up the phone leaving Laura staring at the buzzing receiver in her hand.


	6. Impatient to get back to his future

Remington stared at the phone in his hand before he somberly hung it on the receiver. Sitting on the bed, he could only assume this was exactly how Laura had felt the previous morning when he had snapped at her before slamming down the phone. Scrubbing his face with one hand, he slowly stood and took stock of the room. He had awoken early, showered and packed what remaining items he had left before calling Laura. He had hoped she would have calmed down by the time he reached her and would be excited to know he was going to be arriving that evening, but her formidable temper had more staying power than he had anticipated in this circumstance.

On the dresser lay the parcel from Harrod's. He went over to it, picking up the compact brown paper package, which seemed smaller than it should have been, and brought it back to where his suitcase lay on the bed. He was about to toss it into the bag with the rest of his belongings, but changed his mind and decided to open it instead.

Inside were three individual parcels, each presumably containing one of the three outfits Laura had modeled for him back at Harrod's two days prior, each wrapped in delicate pale pink tissue. Again, he considered packing them away right away, but visions of Laura sashaying towards him from the dressing room in the nearly transparent material distracted him thoroughly, and before he knew it, he was pulling the pink folds apart. The copious material of the evening dress spilled out, so tightly and efficiently had it been wrapped. He fingered the soft material, as it slipped elusively in and around his fingers, and he closed his eyes, burying his face in the soft folds of the exquisite dress, wishing Laura was there with him now.

Felicia had been right all those years ago. He really was smitten with Laura. He knew in his heart that he would do anything for her and was ready, more than ever, to commit his life to her, and he said a silent prayer that they would be able to get past their current difficulties.

Letting the dress material fall back to the bed in a puddle, he looked at his watch and, with a gasp, hurriedly placed everything into his suitcase, carefully folding the dress and placing it under the other two packages.

When he was all packed, he double-checked that he had placed their discoveries from Daniel's building into the correct location. The cash and gems and the documentation pertaining to the building he had inherited would remain in the silver attaché case. Remington intended to discuss the safe-keeping of these items with Mr. Taylor, with the reasonable expectation that the gentleman would hold them in trust, and to avoid traveling across the border with such tremendous valuables. The personal documents, his birth affidavit and birth certificate, and Daniel's letters to Remington and the envelope containing the most cherished letter and the photograph of his mother, Siobhan, were packed into his suitcase with the utmost care and reverence, so as not to damage them.

Zipping his bag closed, Remington lifted it off the bed, mentally recapping his plan for the day, which was to check out of the hotel before his appointment with Mr. Taylor and travel directly to the train station afterward, thereby foregoing any time lost with back-and-forth commuting.

Standing downstairs in the hotel lobby, waiting for the clerk to bring him his bill, Remington drummed his fingers anxiously on the counter in front of him. He had grown weary of London. He knew he would have to return soon, but, for now, he was impatient to return to Ireland, where his most beloved...albeit furious ….and beloved future waited for him. By Laura's side was where he belonged. Distracting him from his thoughts, the clerk finally pushed his credit card and the computer printout toward him. Having concluded the check-out process, he picked up his suitcase, flashed the clerk a bright smile, turned, and walked out the front door of the St. John Hotel.

Remington quickly hailed a taxi and, no sooner had he taken his seat, he was giving the cabby the address of Mr. Taylor's offices and, slipping him a 50-pound note, added, "And, uh, don't spare the rubber, mate. I'd like to dispense with my business quickly so I can get home to my wife as soon as possible." The cabby didn't even count the money but gave Remington a knowing smile and a "Right you are, guv'nor!" as he swerved aggressively into the morning traffic. Remington soon found himself hanging on tightly as the driver sped recklessly toward their destination. As the taxi screeched to a halt, Remington patted his chest and legs to confirm he was still in one piece following that harrowing ride. After emerging from the taxi, he walked toward the boot on shaky legs, keeping a hand on the vehicle at all times for support.

" 'ere you are, guv'nor!" said the cabby, handing Remington his bag and, winking, added, " 'ave a luvely evenin'! "

Remington smiled weakly as he turned away, thinking to himself, compared to that cabby, Laura's...um...exuberance behind the wheel would qualify her to drive the Popemobile!

Remington was met at the door by James Cartwright, Mr. Taylor's junior partner and the solicitor who had first paid Remington and Laura a visit at Ashford, summoning them to London for the reading of Daniels's last will and testament.

The young man greeted Remington cordially and led him to the same conference room where they had met Mr. Taylor a couple of days prior for the revelation of Daniel's final wishes. Mr. Taylor sat at the far end of the long table and stood when Remington entered the room. Reaching him in a couple of long strides, Remington reached out to shake the older gentleman's hand and said, "Mr. Taylor, thank-you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice, particularly on the weekend." He had been surprised to find both men wearing casual attire instead of the formal 3-piece suits he had seen them in before, but then he remembered it was Saturday and expressed his gratitude for their dedication.

"Mr. Steele, I would gladly help anyone close to Daniel, even outside of business hours." After the men took their seats, Mr. Taylor continued, "I have to say, I wasn't surprised by your request for a meeting. Daniel had mentioned you may be needing our services in the future and I am very glad you feel you can trust me with your legal matters." he stated. Holding up a hand to pause the proceedings, he turned to James, "Some coffee perhaps, James." The young man turned, nodding, and left the room through a door partially hidden in the corner.

Remington remembered that, in his letter, Daniel had mentioned that Mr. Taylor could be trusted and knew more than was outwardly apparent. "How well did you know Daniel?" Remington asked, his curiosity piqued.

Mr. Taylor sat back in the chair and considered Remington for a moment before answering.

"Daniel and I...we met when we were very young...working the streets. We were both orphans...and hunger forced us into the life. Daniel was clever and charming...mimicking the manners of the upper-class gents we encountered on the streets. He would even sneak into places like you'd see the toffs go...museums, the library, the theatre. I went with him on several occasions and those experiences opened my eyes, helped me see beyond our sordid world..."

"Then, one of those times, I was nabbed by a bobby as we escaped through a bathroom window in the library. Daniel had slipped away ahead of me, understandably so, mind you. At any rate, I had stolen a couple books about things that interested me. I was about 11 and, by then, I was not only hungry for food but knowledge. The policeman looked at the books and recognized that. He took me under his wing a bit. Found me opportunities to learn...the long and short of it is, I got out. Along with some guidance and exposure to arts and culture, I recognized that there was more to life than stealing your next meal. I persevered and worked hard to pull myself off the streets."

Remington was essentially speechless, regarding the gentleman with a new admiration. There was a long pause and finally Mr. Taylor concluded, "Mr. Steele, I'm fully aware of your...beginnings... so I am sure you will understand that I do not wish to speak about this anymore. Suffice it to say that you can rest assured that I have the understanding of an ambiguous past as well as the expertise to be able to help with any legal matters you may encounter henceforth." With a small smile, he added, "I assume Daniel's name choice for you was satisfactory?"

Remington smiled as well. For the first time in his life, he had a name no one could dispute, and it was due, in part, to the man sitting before him. "Yes, yes I do believe Daniel made a decision I will forever be grateful for. It's one thing to live your life anonymously, living on the outskirts of society with nothing to cling to, but now… this IS who I am. The past is just that, the past. I wish my wife was here now to thank you as I do," he replied.

With a responding nod, Mr. Taylor moved the conversation to the business at hand. "Now, knowing Daniel as long as I did, I'm sure the contents of that case are the real reason you are here."

Remington happily went with the change in direction, wishing to move things along as quickly as possible. He placed the attache case on the table close to Mr. Taylor. He aligned the dials and popped the locks open just as James returned with a tray of coffee and a few pastries. "Thank you, James. Mr. Taylor said and added quietly, "If you have finished going over our notes for the Morton case, you may go. I'll lock up when I have concluded our business here."

Remington hesitated until he had Mr. Taylor's full attention, then opened the case, revealing the wads of cash, the envelopes containing the gems, and the deed and documents for the building Daniel had left Remington. "I have some reservations regarding some of the contents of this case, but first, I would like to retain you to handle the legal matters pertaining to 27A Wimpole Street, the property I have inherited from Daniel, and the Foundation it will house. In addition, I want to make it clear that all of the valuables herein will be used to help finance said Foundation."

"Well, Mr. Steele, I cannot guarantee the origins of what might be in those packages," Mr. Taylor said, indicating the envelopes and cash, "but, I can assure you everything moving into the foundation will be legal," Mr. Taylor answered.

Remington let out a breath he was holding as he opened the first package and shimmied a few gems into view. Mr. Taylor leaned forward, letting out a low whistle, and fingered one of them lightly. "These are fine! Very fine indeed! I can see that Daniel had retained his penchant for the very best until the end! I'm not a gemologist, however, I have a trusted associate who can appraise the value of these. First, we will document what you have here. A moment while I get a notepad to itemize everything." The small man moved quickly, pushing out of the chair toward a sideboard. Sliding a panel to the side he withdrew a yellow legal pad and a box of coin envelopes. He sat back down and picked up a pen, stating, "Let's begin."

Almost four hours later, the two men finished. Remington nervously checked his watch every few minutes, aware that he had already missed the first train to Holyhead. It was decided that Mr. Taylor would have a certified jeweler he trusted examine each gem for any markings to determine if they were purchased or possibly stolen. He would also set up a trust account with a local bank and deposit the cash Daniel had left behind as well. The last order of business was determining a name for the foundation. Remington stalled as long as he could and it wasn't until he was pulling his jacket that it came to him. Turning to Mr. Taylor, he decided, "I'd like the foundation to be called the Harry Daniels Foundation for Boys."

Mr. Taylor smiled, "I will say, Mr. Steele, that seems perfectly fitting. And I assume you'll want to be listed as the major contributor?"

Remington pressed his lips together as he thought. "I'll have to check with my wife on that one. We try not to draw any more undue attention back in Los Angeles and this may ripple across the pond more than we'd like. Give me a few days and I'll call you with an answer," he replied. "Now, Mr. Taylor, I've spent too long in London and need to return to Ireland."

He extended his hand and, much to his surprise, Mr. Taylor pulled him in for a brief but firm hug. The gentleman placed his hand reassuringly on Remington's shoulder looking him square in the eye, saying, "Daniel was proud of you, you must understand that. He wouldn't have given you this task if he hadn't thought you abundantly qualified to do the right thing." With his free hand clasped over Mr. Talyor's as they shook, Remington nodded with a somewhat pained smile. "Thank you for everything Mr. Taylor." Without another word, he turned and left the room.

When he stepped outside, he gratefully noticed that a taxi was already waiting for him, the driver stepping forward to take his bag. He grinned, looking back to see Mr. Taylor in the window, giving him a slight nod. A salute of the hand, a word to the driver as to his destination, and he was at long last on his way back to Laura.


	7.  Nurseries and Wedding Gowns

 

Laura showered and dressed quickly, opting for casual and comfortable in a light sweater, dress slacks, and flats. She applied a thin layer of makeup and styled her hair, tying a section back with a clip to cover her injury, taking care to not pull on the tender stitches. She gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror, noting the dark circles under her eyes and grimaced at her reflection as she smoothed her hair and plucked at her sweater to straighten it, "Well, Laura? Looks like you let the man get well and truly under your skin!" Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh, her eyes panning back up with a shake of her head. At length, she straightened up with a decisive lift of her chin and turned to leave the room.

Downstairs, Laura stopped by Mickeline's office to let him know she was on her way, before heading to the garage where Terence was arranging a vehicle for her to drive. After handing her the keys, he spent a few minutes with her, going over the directions to Pace and Sarah's home, and then to Dublin from there.

With the map close at hand, Laura set out on her journey and pulled slowly out of the driveway. With a great deal of restraint, she took her time, but even with that, missed a couple of turns until, finally, she pulled up in front of the small house, beeping the horn just before climbing out. Sarah opened the door almost immediately. "Mrs. Steele! You made it!" she called.

Laura waved as she approached Sarah, smiling and calling out, "I didn't do too badly," she said with a light laugh. "I only had to turn back a couple of times."

The women embraced and Laura asked "How are you feeling? You look wonderful!"

"I am well, thank you! Except for the babe getting me up through the night...Speaking of which, let me just hit the loo before we go. It's a long ride to Dublin…" She was about to turn and go in, then added wistfully, "Dublin! I can't believe we're going! I was just a wee lass the last time I went." Her expression turned sorrowful as she continued, "My Da took me and Fergus, and we went to the Zoological Museum. I've never forgotten that day. I remember telling my Da over and over how much I loved it and he promised me that someday he would take me back…" Sarah's voice trailed off as a silent tear slid down her cheek.

Laura reached up, one hand on Sarah's shoulder, the other wiping the tear away, as she said, "I understand Sarah. I lost my Father too..." Upon seeing the questioning look in the girl's teary eyes, she added hurriedly, "Oh no, he didn't die. He left us and disappeared without a trace..."

Sarah put a comforting hand on Laura's arm, "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago...but it hurt a lot...still hurts." Laura turned and folded her arms, rubbing vigorously as if reacting to the morning chill that still hung in the air, but really she was trying to shake off the disquieting feeling the memory had brought back. Kicking it back to from whichever dark corner of her mind it had emerged, she turned back to Sarah and gently held up the young woman's face, "It's hard, I know. But all we can do is try to be there for our loved ones no matter what came before. In a couple of years, you'll be able to take your own child to the museum, and you will always remember the happy times you had with your Father."

Laura gave her a quick hug and Sarah, somewhat cheered by Laura's empathy, smiled and nodded, saying, "We have been going through some of the things that were left after my Mum died in childbirth 10 years ago...My Da fell into despair after he lost her and the baby, and never recovered to handle his affairs. He died from the drink 6 years ago. The area they had set up in their room as a nursery became a catch-all through the years, so Fergus, Pace and I have been going through everything. We found several items that we will be able to use for the baby. Would you like to see what we have set up in the nursery so far?" With a bright smile lighting her face, Laura replied, "Oh, that would be wonderful! Thank you, Sarah!", and she followed her into the house.

Inside, Sarah led her through their home to a tiny room that had been freshly painted with new curtains on the window through which the sunlight slanted it's early morning rays. In one corner was a crib of a pale cream color with a delicate design carved into the headboard and in the other corner was what looked like a freshly painted rocking chair to match the crib, with a cushion and a crochet throw, folded neatly and laid over the back of the chair.

"Oh, this is beautiful!" declared Laura. "You will have a beautiful setting in which to welcome your child!"

"Thank you!" said Sarah. "We are very excited. We just need to find a bassinet for the infant, to have in our room close to us until he or she is a few months old. We are hoping we can find someone in the village who is giving one away." Sarah walked around the room, clearly enjoying the space, and added, "But I am very happy with how this room has turned out. Pace and Fergus did a beautiful job painting everything to look like new. It was painful at first, facing all the things from those difficult days after me Mum died..."

Sarah turned away to look out the window, but not quickly enough for Laura to miss the tears that threatened once again. She stepped up to her, saying, "Hey...no more tears, okay?" Laura placed her arm around Sarah's shoulder as they made their way back out of the house. "Now, let's get going and do some shopping for you and that baby!" Glancing at her watch, she made for the car, saying, "I'll warm the engine while you finish getting ready."

Sarah waddled into the bathroom and reappeared several minutes later outside, a small purse in one hand and a lightweight sweater in the other. "Ready!" she announced climbing into the car, laughing as she tried to buckle the seatbelt, but couldn't find it beside her belly. With Laura's help, she was clicked in, and they were steering toward the highway. Once they made it to the open road, Laura pressed the gas hard and fast. Sarah reached up and hung on to the bar above her head, glancing over at Laura and saying, "Mrs. Steele…. We don't need to rush… not… not on my account!"

Laura just shook her head and replied, "I'm not rushing. This is how I drive back in Los Angeles."

Sarah eyed her again and muttered, "I'll not be traveling there any time soon if that's the case."

Despite wanting to make good time, Laura slowed somewhat so as not to upset the young mother-to-be any further. Shooting her a sidelong glance, she could see that Sarah had fallen into a melancholy silence and, hoping to distract her, turned on the radio, "Let's see if we can find some music for the road, hey?" Sarah brightened at this and perked up even more when Laura's twisting of the dials rewarded them with some familiar popular songs. It wasn't long before the two of them were singing loudly with the windows down. They were still singing thus when they pulled into Dublin, turning heads as they made their way to the city center. The buildings got taller as they neared the shopping district and Sarah turned down the radio, leaning out the window to look at the tall buildings surrounding them. "Wow…," she whispered loudly.

Laura sighed happily, peering out the window at the sights Dublin had to offer, "Ah! Reminds me of home! Los Angeles looks a lot like this. Lots of tall buildings, I mean... not these beautiful old ones, but skyscrapers everywhere you look, lots of commotion..." Laura said effusively as she followed the landmarks Terrence told her to look for in finding their destination. "Now, if I could find a place to park, we could have lunch and be within walking distance to Brown Thomas on Grafton Street where I was told we'd be able to find some nice things for you and your baby."

After finding a spot on one of the side streets nearby, Laura and Sarah made their way toward the main street where they had seen some outdoor cafés. As they walked along, Laura started formulating a shopping list in her head of what they needed to buy in the store and she realized that, although she had a general idea what Remington and she had intended to gift the expectant young couple, she really wasn't sure exactly what they might need in addition to what they already had. She turned to Sarah to ask her just as the young woman inhaled sharply and stopped short, rubbing her belly. "Sarah? Is everything all right?" she asked, deeply concerned.

Sarah smiled back at her weakly, "Not to worry, Mrs. Steele. It happens quite frequently but startles me every time. Pace worries too. The midwife said it's just my body preparing. She called them Braxton Hicks contractions but said they were nothing to worry about. But I would like to find a bathroom as soon as possible. I think the babe is unhappy I had so much water before we left."

Laura looked around and saw that they had almost arrived at a café. "Let's have our lunch there then." She gently took Sarah's arm and led her through the patio into the café itself asking one of the servers for the location of the bathroom. She accompanied Sarah to the bathroom door and assured her that she would wait outside just in case, but Sarah waved her off. "Oh no, Mrs. Steele, it has passed. I will be just fine, thank you." Laura was hesitant, "Well, if you're you sure?..." Sarah nodded decisively, so Laura concluded, "Alright, I'll go find us a table."

As Laura sat waiting, her thoughts drifted to Remington.  _I wonder what he's doing now?_  she thought to herself wistfully, but caught herself immediately and put a stop to her sentimental pining,  _...probably half-way to Maui by now with a Doris, or a Susan, or a Sheilagh or...SHANNON..she tracked him down and he's taking all those ill-begotten riches Daniel squirreled away, and now he's jetting his way back to Tokyo with that, that... that FLOOZIE!..._.

Sarah returned and sat down, her hand on her belly, and, recovering quickly from her nightmarish daydream, Laura asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine now. Right as rain...and really hungry!"

Laura looked a little worried, but replied, "Well, anytime you feel that you've had enough, we can stop, okay? Now, order whatever you would like. Lunch is on me."

Sarah replied, "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Steele!..."

Laura placed her hand on Sarah's, saying, "And call me Laura!"

After the women ordered their lunches they sat back to enjoy the mild day and gentle breezes that made the passersby slow their paces contentedly.

At length, Laura noticed that Sarah looked a bit uncomfortable, fidgeting nervously. Finally, she said, "uh, Mrs. Steele...um...Laura...You said earlier that we would shop for baby things...well, the thing of it is...money is scarce...Pace and I were planning to scrape by with the bare minimum...so I don't know how much I will buy..."

"Not to worry, Sarah. It will be a gift from us. Mr. Steele and I had discussed this before we left for London. We want to buy a few things for the baby. It's the least we can do. Pace risked his own life to save mine. We will be eternally grateful."

The waitress brought their food and they ate heartily, enjoying the house special for the day, rotisserie chicken on fresh sourdough bread, with french fries and freshly squeezed lime soda, and Sarah talked about the baby and her further plans for the nursery.

After a pause, Sarah asked Laura, "Are you and Mr. Steele planning on children right away?" The question took Laura by surprise, but she managed to stutter out a mumbled reply resembling, "...well, we haven't been married that long...", which prompted another series of queries in quick succession from Sarah, "What was your wedding like? What kind of dress did you wear? Did you and Mr. Steele have a big wedding?"

Laura bit her lip and half laughed, half grunted, "Big? No. Sudden and unexpected… yes." Laura shifted nervously at Sarah's expression, her brows knitted in confusion by Laura's cryptic comment. She tried to explain, steering her away from the sordid past towards the lamentably vague future, "My family will be coming to Ireland in a week or so. Mr. Steele and I had planned on surprising them with another ceremony in the chapel…" she trailed off awkwardly just as the waitress came by to ask them how they were enjoying the meal. Laura, grateful for the interruption, complimented the food profusely and wished she had Remington's culinary knowledge in order to ask specific questions about methods of preparation and such, but all she could come up with was, "So, this chicken tastes really different than chicken I've had in Los Angeles...why is that?" She was desperate to distract Sarah from her line of questioning, but the waitress gave her a strange look and hurried off to another table. Surprisingly her tactic worked, or at least it bought her time, as Sarah was the first to declare that she couldn't possibly eat another bite, with Laura jumping in to concur. "Oh, me too! I'm stuffed!"

"I hate to say it, but I'm never going to fit into my clothes after this babe is born," Sarah moaned. "I've gained more than I thought I would, and I still have several weeks to go."

"Nonsense, Sarah! You look wonderful! I imagine a woman needs a little extra when she's growing a baby inside her." Laura said, giving Sarah's belly an affectionate pat. Sarah beamed just as the waitress re-appeared to clear their plates. After Laura looked after the bill, the women stood to take their leave.

As they strolled down the street towards Brown Thomas, Sarah stopped and stared in the window of a bridal dress shop. "Oh, aren't they beautiful! Let's go in and look at them! Maybe you'll find yours, Laura!" Laura tried desperately to dissuade her but in vain. "No Sarah, please, I couldn't. No, not right now..." Sarah pulled Laura into the shop, agog at all the dresses of fine materials, dripping with pearls and crystals or adorned with delicate lace. Laura stood awkwardly by, enduring the conflicting emotions clawing at her insides.

With a shrug of her shoulders, she ambled slowly around the shop, half-heartedly taking note of aspects of each dress she liked or didn't. She turned a corner and straight ahead was a dress on a mannequin, display lights illuminating it. Laura's mouth fell open as she took in its clean uncluttered lines, a satin embroidered emerald green ribbon edging the strapless halter all the way around to the back where some lacing in the same green cinched the bodice. The wide ribbon continued from there, edging either side of the train, beginning where the bottom of the lacing arrived at the waist. She couldn't have dreamed up a more perfect dress for what could have been...might be...  _DAMN!_  She swiftly turned on her heel without another look back and muttered an - "I'll be right outside" -on her way out and disappeared through the jingling door.

Sarah joined her in seconds, placing her hand on Laura's arm, saying, "I-is everything alright Laura? You left the store rather abruptly..."

"Oh, it's nothing, Sarah..." She said, suppressing the impulse to let tears of frustration flow and, instead, linked her arm with Sarah's, saying, "Now, we have some baby things to buy, so let's focus on that right now."

Sarah looked back at the dresses on display as they walked by and said, "Pace and I used to talk about having a wedding… a real wedding… but this wee one needs to come first now."

Laura glanced at her and smiled at Sarah despite her own distress, "Maybe we can make arrangements for you to be married in the chapel at Ashford Castle. When you have settled in with the new baby, that is."

Sarah looked at Laura in astonishment, "That...that sounds like something out of a dream!"

"I'll speak with Mickeline." Laura gave her a warm smile and hoped that Sarah would glean only happiness from it.

"We will never be able to thank you properly for everything you are doing."

"Mr. Steele and I both understand all too well the cruelty of being orphaned. We are only too glad to help those who have experienced such loss."

They hadn't walked another block before Sarah stopped in her tracks once again. "OW!" she exclaimed, leaning forward just a bit.

"Sarah? Are you okay?" Laura asked quickly.

Straightening slowly, Sarah inhaled deeply, blowing out her exhale. "Nothing, sorry. That was a little stronger than the others. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Are you sure? We can go back…." Laura started to turn back toward the direction they had walked from.

"No, no. I'll be fine," Sarah assured her.

"If you're sure…" Laura said slowly. Sarah nodded in response, linking her arm in Laura's once again.

Their destination was in the very next block and as soon as they entered the building, Sarah said, "I need to find the loo...in a hurry!"

Laura looked around and found the closest restroom and Sarah disappeared inside. While she waited, Laura meandered around the small section of men's clothing they had walked through to get to the washroom. One shirt, in particular, caught her attention. A dark blue shirt that reminded her of the boundless blue of Remington's eyes. She reached out to touch the fabric, fingering the material which was a chambray of the softest Japanese cotton she had ever felt. She was just about to give in to the impulse of buying it when Sarah appeared. "Okay, I'm ready." she declared and they both went in search of the Infants and Children's department.

As the pair wandered through the racks, they couldn't help picking up outfit after outfit, oohing and aahing at the adorable designs and the general cuteness of the tiny clothing. With the help of a clerk, they amassed a selection of baby apparel to include several gender-neutral outfits, a few pajama sets, and plenty of onesies and socks.

Laura insisted Sarah sit and stay with the bags while she fetched the car and within half an hour they were finding their way towards Tony Kealys according to Terrence's excellent directions.

Laura found a parking spot directly across from the store and heaved a sigh of relief. She was worried about Sarah and wanted to make things as easy as possible, and this way they didn't have far to walk. As they entered the store, a salesman approached the pair, "Can I help you ladies find anything in particular?" he asked.

Laura was about to answer the clerk when she sensed that Sarah had left her side. Turning, she saw her walking toward a sample nursery bedroom display with a wooden bassinet at its center.

Laura smiled at the clerk, saying, "Excuse me...", and joined Sarah at her side, the clerk following close behind.

"This is wonderful!" said Sarah in an undertone.

"You like it?" Sarah jumped, not realizing Laura was standing next to her, then looked back at the bassinet.

"Yes, I love it."

"We'll take it," Laura informed the salesman, "Can you ship this to Knockree?"

"Mrs. Steele! I can't accept this! It's too much!"

"It is not too much, and it's Laura." returned Laura with a little wag of her finger.

"How can we ever tha...!"

"No more thank yous." Laura said with a smile and, turning back to the clerk, said, "Can you point out the strollers for us, please?"

They were on their way over to where the prams were parked when Sarah suddenly said, "Can we sit? I think I need to sit." The salesman led them to a rest area complete with bottles of water and an ottoman she could put her feet up on. As soon as she sat back on the cushions she immediately began to feel better.

"Make sure you drink that whole bottle of water," the salesman instructed. "The same thing used to happen to my wife when she was pregnant with our son. A full bottle of water, get your feet up and you'll feel good as new in no time."

"I'm sorry to be such trouble," Sarah said quietly between sips.

"Trouble? This isn't any trouble at all. Last week we thought we were going to have to deliver this poor woman's baby right here on the sales floor," he laughed, drawing a smile from Sarah and Laura. "While you rest, why don't your… sister and I pick up the other items. We can bring things over here for you to choose from if you'd like."

Laura didn't correct him, instead, she said, "Sarah, you relax. We'll take care of the rest. You can sleep in the car on the way back, how's that sound?" Sarah nodded, although she was thinking that it wasn't likely she would get any sleep with Laura at the wheel. Despite that, an hour and a half later, with the trunk packed full of baby gear, she succumbed to sleep at the gentle rocking of the car as it sped toward her home.

Thinking about the events of the day, Laura let out a shaky breath, hot tears stinging her eyes. The wedding dress that had caught her eye exhilarated her but also brought to light her anxiety about the events they had planned. Tomorrow would be Remington's family brunch. Would he even be back on time? How would she manage on her own? What would she say to all those people?  _Damn it!_  Was he even coming back, ever?!

Murphy's words from years ago flashed through her thoughts, " _Who knows with this guy?_ " A feeling of dread gripped her insides as she felt her reckless heart doing battle with her logical mind.

She KNEW she loved him and believed in him and she had finally trusted him with her heart, but now she couldn't shake the feeling of… betrayal that plagued her soul. She had made him promise years ago to never leave her for her own good, but it seemed that it had happened again.

Her wishes for which she had finally dared to hope and dream, even finally plan;...

...a wedd... a REAL wedding!...

...a fam… Well, maybe in the most remote and rigorously guarded recesses of her heart had she hoped for chil...

Laura shook her head...

All her dreams were teetering on the edge of oblivion; planning a life with this man who, despite a troubled childhood and a shrouded history, had emerged from such a past with a kind heart and an innate sense of justice, essentially ticking all the boxes of her idyllic made-up boss, seemed to drift further from her reach. He had stolen her heart from the beginning and never failed to best even her list of virtuous qualities that she admired in a man.

Why was this last piece of the puzzle so difficult to solve? She knew how she felt, but his circuitous methods in matters of the heart shook her every time.

Nevertheless, it was time to stop being the victim. Her fear of not having her feelings reciprocated had gobbled up her courage. Without a doubt, it was time to wear her heart on her sleeve. Lay her cards on the table. Come what may, he will be in no doubt of HER feelings.

For the first time in their relationship, she felt hope for the future and she pressed on the gas pedal ever so slightly, excited now to begin the first day of the rest of their lives.


	8. Shedding the Past

Remington stood in the aisle of the train awaiting the conductor. There was a bit of confusion with another couple occupying his assigned compartment and they refused to leave. He scanned the car on both ends for the official and swiped at his mouth in frustration as he waited impatiently. Looking to his left, he studied the window at the far end of the next car hoping to catch sight of him when he heard a familiar voice calling to him.

"Michael? Michael! Michael, what in the world are you doing here?" Felicia called as she wove her way through the waiting travelers, pulling him close and kissing him soundly on the lips.

Startled, Remington's arms flailed and his eyebrows shot up. When her hold slackened, he maneuvered his hands between them, clamping them to her shoulders to keep her at bay. "Felicia, it's… nice… to see you again," he said stiffly.

"Michael is that how you greet an old friend?!" she reprimanded him, still toying with the hairs at his nape.

Taking a step back, he shifted his hands to her arms, pushing her as far away from him as was possible in the currently crowded space. His eyes darted up and down the train as he silently wished the conductor would magically appear so he wouldn't have to answer her. "Sorry, Felicia, I'm currently awaiting the conductor to take care of a small problem I'm having with my compartment."

"Problem? There's no problem! You can share mine!" she announced, linking her arm in his and dragging him toward the end of the rail car. Remington tried to plant his feet and slip his arm out of hers, but just as he thought he had an opportunity, she yanked him into an open compartment. Once they were out of the crowded passageway, she put her arms around his neck and said, "Now, Michael, I can give you a proper greeting."

Felicia reeled him in for a kiss, but Remington wasn't biting. He peeled off her clinging hands, one by one, and stepped back from her, rolling his shoulders to reposition his suit. "Sorry, Felicia.  _\- My wife -",_ he said the word with added emphasis, " ...wouldn't appreciate that."  _Not again, h_ e thought to himself and swallowed painfully at the memory of Laura's reaction to the Shannon incident in front of their hotel in London.

Within the blink of an eye, a kaleidoscope of expressions crossed Felicia's face, cadencing smoothly into one of fox-ish indifference. She sat down, her long arms idly spanning almost the entire length of the seat backs, and slung one leg languidly over the other. "Your wife? You don't mean... Lisa?" she asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Remington, seeing that she had ceased her advances, at least for the moment, relaxed a little. With one eye covertly darting back towards her every few seconds, he looked around the compartment, and then, sidling back to the door, poked his head out, looking up and down the chaotic passageway. Deciding it was hopeless to pursue a cabin for himself, he dropped his suitcase on the bench opposite Felicia and sat down. Mirroring her imperious pose, he leveled a steady gaze at her, "Her name is Laura… and yes… we were married three weeks, come Monday."

"Well, well, well, Michael. I am surprised, to say the least." Felicia crooned, caressing the seat beside her as she gently swung her top leg.

Remington crossed his arms and continued to stare her down. "Felicia, the last time you saw me I made it clear to you that I was...previously committed...It should come as no surprise to you to find out now that Laura and I have wed!?" he stated quizzically.

Leaning forward, Felicia placed her hand on Remington's knee, rubbing his leg gently as she said, "Really, Michael. I can recall a few moments in our history where… commitment… was an unsavory concept. Unencumbered dalliance was the unspoken precept."

Remington stood abruptly, and retreated toward the compartment door, renewing his search for the train conductor. The journey would be intolerable with this kind of harassment. With no conductor in sight, he turned back, "Enough, Felicia." He pinned her with a determined glare and continued. "Laura is my wife, in EVERY sense of the word. What you and I had… is ancient history. I have a new life now. I've started over. With Laura."

Felicia sat back against the seat looking frustrated. The conductor appeared in the doorway, "Tickets please?" he asked. Felicia pulled her ticket out of her purse as Remington turned, reaching into his jacket for his. "There appears to be an issue with my compartment," he tried to explain, but the conductor simply handed him back his ticket and stated, "We're overbooked. You'll have to share. Good day, sir."

Remington stood in the doorway, his lips flattened in frustration at the brushoff he had just received. From behind him, he heard Felicia chuckle lightly, "Well, Michael, it appears you'll have to stay here with me after all."

The muscles in his cheeks twitched and he ran his hand through the back of his hair, weighing his options. He jumped when he felt Felicia's fingers intertwine with his and now he felt her breath on his ear. "Remember those nights when my fingers never left your hair. You were  _incredible_! Does Lisa play with your hair when you…"

Remington spun to face her, anger written across his face as he stated quietly and evenly, but with a menacing undertone, "I will never divulge what occurs between Laura and myself in our most intimate moments. It took us a long time to get there and I'll have you know, Felicia, it was well worth the wait. Now, if you would excuse me, I'll find another compartment to ride in. I'm finding the company here rather…. oppressive."

Felicia was taken aback by the flash of animosity in his eyes and quickly changed tack, reaching out, her fingers skimming the front of his suit jacket as she said, "I'm sorry Darling. Perhaps I was being a tad indelicate. What happens between you and your… wife… well, I shouldn't ask. Please, stay. It's a long ride to Holyhead and I can't bear the thought of you jammed into coach with that throng of strangers, like so many sardines packed into a tin." She sat back down, gesturing toward the seat across from her.

Crossing his arms, he pursed his lips as he wondered if he could trust her. He glanced toward his would-be escape route, the silhouettes of the jostling passengers clambering for satisfaction, dashing his hopes for a nice quiet journey. "Felicia, for lack of any other options, I accept your… offer. However, I'm setting ground rules right now. Hands to yourself for starters. Also, any questions or comments regarding my wife and our ...marital interactions… are completely off limits! Do I make myself clear?" he stated.

"Very well, Michael, darling, I promise to behave... But I really don't understand what is so fun about playing Remington Steele. And I never dreamed you'd take it this far!" she pouted and slouched back against the back of her bench.

Remington puffed out a frustrated sigh through his nose and frowned. He would never be able to impress upon the likes of Felicia what he had with Laura.  _I'm one of the lucky ones, I suppose,_  he thought to himself.

Felicia regained her well-practiced sophistication and said, "But darling, would you permit me one last question?" she asked innocently, batting her eyelashes at him rapidly.

"That will depend on my approving of your question," Remington replied as he sat back down and settled himself on the bench.

"How in the world did you convince the ever frigid Miss Holt to marry you?" she asked as she fingered the chunky necklace she was wearing. Remington glowered at Felicia's representation of Laura but let it slide, seeing as HE knew the truth and that was all that really mattered. However, Felicia pressed on, "After all Darling, I  _know_  she did not put out in all those years you two were working  _side_  by  _side_...she must have steal restraint to have been able to..."

"Felicia-a-a..." Remington cut her off with a clenched-tooth growl.

But Felicia cut in, "Well, it's the least you can do, Michael!" she cried petulantly. "If you won't let me make sport with your...uh.." she rolled her hand carelessly, "...tiresome state of wedlock, well then, let me in on how you melted Mont Blanc."

Remington froze, turning his blue eyes on her, "The Swan; Alec Guiness, Grace Kelly. Warner Brothers, 1956."

Felicia gave him a puzzled expression, "I beg your pardon?"

"A Princess of a minor royal house in turn-of-the-century Europe is urged to marry a Prince from a..." Noticing Felicia's look of utter bewilderment, Remington stopped, "...uh, never mind...Now, what was the question, again?...oh yes. Well..."

Images of Laura on the fishing trawler to the momentous night that they consummated their marriage in Ireland and everything in between flickered through his mind like an old movie. He smiled to himself.  _It was more like Mont Blanc erupting. In every sense! But I'll be damned if I give Felicia the details._  "Oh really, Felicia, I didn't have to lift a finger. Laura is in control of her own destiny and her blood runs hot. Always has." Try as he might, he could not suppress a smile from reaching his lips, and a hint of a blush from tingeing his face and neck.

His reaction was noted by Felicia, and she sat back, deflated, "You really do love her, don't you?"

Remington tried to retain a level of cool indifference, but instead, couldn't help grinning from ear to ear. "Yes, I do," he stated frankly. The train lurched to life and Remington looked out the window at the travelers milling about the station who now grew more and more distant with every chug of the train as it pulled out of the station. He missed the crestfallen look on Felicia's face who looked as though her world had suddenly become a bit shabbier. "You know, Felicia, I think I loved her from the first moment I saw her and ..."

"I've heard enough, thank-you," she said abruptly, standing up to the window with her back to Remington. There was a lull, the landscape quickly moving to a blur. Finally, Felicia spoke again, "How's Daniel?" she said into the glass.

Remington's look of surprise at her sudden change in demeanor turned to one of empathy and concern. "You haven't heard, then?" he said. Felicia turned, her disappointment forgotten at the sound of Remington's tone. "Felicia, Daniel has...passed on. He's gone."

"Daniel's dead? And you didn't tell me?" she exclaimed.

"Felicia, I thought the news would have reached you by now! " Remington countered defensively. "Besides, it happened so suddenly...and then there was our variation on the shell game coffin scam he'd concocted, and before I knew it, his body was whisked away to Moscow..."

"Moscow?!" Felicia interjected.

"Well, yes, you see, Daniel was helping smuggle a British operative out of the Soviet Union and, knowing he was near his end, he figured that if his body was shipped to Moscow along with two other empty coffins, it would cause confusion long enough for the operative to switch places with Daniel's body, by which time they would have decided to send back the coffins from whence they came, and the lucky fellow would be home free."

"But circumstances being what they were, the operative was never found and the need arose for the 3 coffins for a different scam altogether." He held out his hands and counted on his three middle fingers. "The first, to smuggle a British KGB double agent to London. The second to engineer the defection of a Russian Diplomat who was to expose said KGB spy. And the third, which carried Daniel's body, was sent to Moscow as a decoy. It was supposed to have carried the Russian Diplomat, who by then was safely in the US, no doubt experiencing his first kick-off in the World Series." And he ended in a flourish as he pretended to swing a bat and hit a ball with a click of his tongue.

Felicia draped herself over the plush bench once again and said, "Well, it sounds as though the two of you were very naughty, getting up to your old tricks."

Remington had crossed his arms and was chewing on his fingernail, lost in his own memories of Daniel and their exploits together. "Yes, he certainly was a master at engineering the most daring scams. And with such flair!"

"It's a shame you couldn't have arranged a funeral for him here..."

"Well, I guess Daniel thought it would be difficult to bury a ghost through legal channels. He knew the Russians would sooner lie than admit that they had lost a high-ranking Diplomat to defection, so Daniel received a hero's burial in Moscow."

"I suppose people like you and I and Daniel don't really need gravesites for family members to visit."

Remington shifted uncomfortably. Lightly pinching his lips between his fingers as he searched for the right words, he leaned forward and said, "Actually, Daniel had family."

Now Felicia's brows furrowed in question. "And who might that have been, Michael?"

Clearing his throat, Remington said matter-of-factly, "Me. Daniel was my Father."

The kaleidoscope was turning again, emotions rioting behind Felicia's eyes and, once again, she reigned it all in, saying coolly, "Darling, how can you be so sure?"

"There is a document that proves it. It's called a Birth Affidavit."

"How is that possible...?"

"Daniel's parting gift to me. I only discovered it after he was gone. He always had it but never revealed who he was to me until the very end. I had been orphaned as a baby when he was in jail and he only found me when I was 11." He let out a ghost of a sardonic laugh that faded almost before it had even begun, not enjoying reliving the feelings he had experienced a few days earlier with Daniel at Ashford Castle. Understanding had not dulled the sting of bitterness of a childhood lost. "It's not the kind of thing you just toss at a hardened 11-year-old street urchin who'd likely turn tail and run...or worse..."

"Surely, Michael, you must be joking..." she asked suspiciously.

"No. It's not a joke. It's not a scam. It's not a con…..It's legit. And the name is Remington. Remington Chalmers Steele. I even have a birth certificate to prove it. Another parting gift from Daniel. With the birth affidavit, he had it within his power to issue one in the name I chose five years ago, when Laura came into my life...or, um... vice versa." He smirked at the last and continued, "I had no knowledge of these arrangements. Ever since I took up with Laura and the Agency, he always led me to believe he did not approve. But, I suppose when push came to shove and he realized where my heart lay. So, with that birth certificate, Remington Steele is as legitimate as it gets."

He looked out the window, watching the countryside fly by as the train sped down the tracks, the clicking and clacking of wheels jousting with the tracks amplified by another deafening lull. Felicia, her expression opaque, finally said with a light laugh, "I suppose next you'll be wanting to find your mother... or perhaps you have found your mother...?"

Remington inwardly frowned at her derisive tone and, as such, did not feel like bringing his mother into the conversation. In truth, he was glad she had made it easy for him. He had wanted Laura to be the first to hear about his treasured discovery.

He was through confiding in Felicia who had used him in abominable ways in the past. Now that he had informed her of Daniel's demise, he felt he owed her nothing and gave her an extremely superficial version of the truth. he could only hope she would not continue to pry.

"She died in childbirth and that was the end of it. The beginning of it no doubt involved Daniel's head being turned by a pretty face." He concluded amicably.

Felicia grinned showing all her teeth, "Yes, well, THAT theory is not difficult to swallow!" She arched her eyebrows and raked her eyes over him hungrily. Remington shifted uncomfortably under lecherous perusal and considered leaving when a small group of passengers barged into the compartment. " 'ave y' got room for us in 'ere?" said a 30-something woman with two school-aged children who seemed to be trapped in a bubble of ceaseless squabbling. The woman continued, raising her voice to carry of the din, "I's blocked ev'rywhere ewse..."

Remington, leaped up, moving his bag over all the way to the window. "Yes, dear lady! Of course, we have room for you and your...um... charming brood!" He took her bag and lifted it to the overhead compartment and graciously offered her his hand. "Please do sit." The woman looked at him in awe and, with a slight blush, gave him her hand and said, "Ow! I down't mind if I do!"

Remington smiled and thought to himself:  _My Fair Lady. Rex Harrison, Audrey Hepburn. Warner Brothers. 1964._

Normally, he would have used his charm and cunning to convince such a horde that they would be better off elsewhere, but he was grateful for the buffer they provided between him and Felicia.

When they were all seated again, even the children, who in awe of the dashing man and glamorous woman, had quietened down, although did not retain from stealthy pokes and jabs at each other, Remington resumed a civil conversation with Felicia. "What sends you to Holyhead? It's not a hub of art activity or is there something new sparking your interest in the British countryside?"

"It's more of a who than anything else." Felicia stated cryptically, licking her bottom lip seductively, "I'm meeting someone." Remington gave her a polite nod, cringing inwardly at her wanton display, particularly in the presence of children.

Fortunately, she decided to change the subject and asked, "Do you remember the painting in Milan?"

The two continued to discuss their exploits and finders fees of years gone by for the rest of the journey to Holyhead careful to carry on the conversation in the Cannon's Code, so as not to reveal the criminal nature of those activities. As the train slowly inched its way into the station, the young family bustled out of the compartment, with nods of thanks towards Remington as Felicia stood to straighten her dress. Remington also stood, stretching his arms out to the side and was surprised when Felicia slipped her arms around him, holding him closely. He was surprised to find the hug devoid of lust, but instead sensed a profound loneliness emanating from her. Slowly, he returned her hug, kissing her forehead lightly before releasing her and putting his hands in his pockets.

"Well, I guess this is where we part," Felicia said as she turned away to pick up her bags. "I can't say that I'm not going to miss you, Michael," Felicia said with a sigh and stood to face him for a moment before turning away making for the door.

"Be happy for me, Felicia." Felicia froze at the sound of his voice.

"Wish me well," Remington spoke again.

Finally, she turned her head halfway and said, "Good-bye, Remington Steele."


	9. The Rocky Road Home

Arrived, at last, Laura pulled to a halt in front of Sarah's house, grateful that she had plenty of time left to make it back to Ashford before sundown.

The grinding and crunching of tires on gravel had awoken Sarah, who was now blinking groggily. She attempted to roll herself out of the car, her hands flying to her beachball belly when she went to sit up. Laura noticed the movement and quickly went around to help her.

"I think you may have overdone it today. Let's get you inside so you can put your feet up..." Laura said, offering Sarah her hand. Just then, the front door opened, and Pace emerged and hurried to Sarah's side, Fergus not far behind. "Sarah! Are you alright?" he asked and looked at Laura, concern creasing his face.

"I am well, Pace. The Braxton Hicks contractions were a tad strong today. I'll just sit down for a spell... Oh, wait! The baby things...!"

Laura cut in, saying, "Fergus and I will bring everything into the nursery."

Pace led Sarah into the house, asking her how she had enjoyed her day and Sarah's excited burbling about the day's adventures was swallowed up by the house as Laura pulled one bag after another from the boot of the car. Fergus stood as still as a hat rack, mutely accepting the bags being hung on his protruding limbs, in awe of the sheer amount of stuff before him, only snapping out of his dazedness when Laura gave the directive, "Well, that's enough for now. Take these to the nursery...Fergus?"

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! How many things does this babe need?" he asked, his arms now wobbling, as he struggled to balance the load.

Laura turned, surveying the goods, and had to admit, "It does certainly add up. Here, I'll take some of those off your hands and then we can come back for the rest."

They bustled into the house together and plunked the bags in the nursery. Pace had followed them in when he saw them walk by, saying, "Mrs. Steele…. Your Ladyship, this is…too much. Sarah told me of your generosity..."

"Say nothing of it, Pace. You know how Mr. Steele and I feel about your selflessness. This is the least we can do." Laura straightened up from depositing the bags and turned to Pace, placing a reassuring hand to his arm and smiling warmly at him. "Now, let's get the rest of those bags before I say my goodbyes for the evening."

"We'll take care of that Mrs. Steele," said Pace, nodding to Fergus.

Laura was already shaking her head and insisted, "Call me Laura...and thank-you...I'll go and check to make sure Sarah is comfortable before I head out."

She joined Sarah in the sitting room and offered another pillow that was across the room, plumping it up and placing it behind her for extra support and went to the kitchen for some water.

The men appeared and Laura, returning with glass in hand, asked, "Did you get everything?"

"We did..." came an answer from Pace, and Fergus added dryly, "All nineteen bags." "Oh, hush. Just wait 'til  _you're_  expecting one of your  _own_." Sarah cheekily chastised her big brother before taking a sip of the water Laura had handed her. Pace looked at Fergus and, with a wink and a slap on the back, echoed Sarah's teasing tone, "Yes, wait 'til it's your turn, brother!" They all laughed heartily, Fergus grinning and blushing, as he scuffed his toe at an uneven floorboard.

Laura clapped her hands together saying, "Well, I should get going. I don't want to get lost in the dark on my way back."

Sarah, caught in an insuppressible yawn, covered her mouth and blushed, "Excuse me. I didn't realize how tired I was. Laura, I can't thank you enough for today. It's been one of the best days I've had in a long time."

Laura moved toward the couch and sat on the edge to give Sarah a hug. "I'm glad you had fun. If you'd like, I'll come by in a couple of days and help you set up the bassinet when it arrives?"

"You mean there's more?!" cried Fergus, eliciting a grin from Pace and a grimace from Sarah.

Turning back to Laura, she exclaimed, "Oh Laura! I would love that."

Laura smiled "I look forward to it."

"Perhaps we can discuss your future plans as well!" Sarah added, smiling mischievously, a couple of mischievous dimples appearing that Laura had not noticed earlier.

On the drive back to Ashford, Laura fretted over her current circumstances. She felt as though she were a bird gone astray, having been trapped inside a building, flapping about frantically, unable to see what lay beyond or understand the invisible boundaries hindering its escape.

Her anxiety built with every mile her speeding tires consumed, her afore found courage fleeting, like an important letter carried away by a relentless gale.

"Stop it, Laura! He's your  _husband_  for godsakes! Come what may, you will HAVE to confront him… But what will I say?" she muttered to herself as she drove.

Before she had the chance to divine an answer or devise a plan, she found herself arrived at Ashford. She drove the vehicle to the garage to return it to Terrence. A small light was on at his desk, with some papers scattered about, insurance documents, order forms for car parts, and an unruly pile of scribbled notes, the top one practically illegible.  _HL at HH - 7. Car jargon_ , she thought to herself as she dropped the keys on top of the note, figuring they would be easily spotted there.

Back in the castle, she found no one about, so she hurried up to her room, thankful for some uninterrupted R & R. Unfortunately, the sanctuary of her bedchamber alone did not offer respite from her anxious rumination, so she decided to spend some time at her barre before turning in. Perhaps stretching out her muscles would smooth out her tangled thoughts.

She glanced over at the bed where her suitcase still lay abandoned and, stripping down, she changed quickly into a pair of lightweight pants and a t-shirt and turned on the tape player beside her barre. The room was instantly filled with the caressing sounds of piano music, pulsing, tumbling, arpeggiating.

An image came to her mind unbidden. The embodiment of a man with integrity, compassion, a desire to help others... Remington Steele.

The soothing sound of the piano would forever remind her of him. Ever since he gifted her with the baby grand that occupied the pride of place in her loft back in Los Angeles. These gentle sounds would always remind her of his kind heart. How had he perceived how much the piano she had lost in the explosion had meant to her?

She walked to her barre, gliding her hand along the smooth grain of the wood as the music continued to ribbon around the room.

The image remained, wavering in her mind's eye like a gauze curtain in a summer breeze. The quintessential Remington Steele...Of course, it helped that he had a thick head of hair the color of midnight, and eyes the color of an iridescent sea on a sunny day.

He had the ballet barre installed for her as a surprise a few scant days ago. What kind of man does that? A deeply loving man who is sensitive to the needs of others.

Laura shook her head slightly with a little smile, her lungs filling with an irrepressible breath as her heart swelled at the thought of someone caring about her THAT much.

She spent the next hour doing pliés and tendus, fondus and rond de jambes, stretching and challenging her muscles until they trembled from the exertion.

Walking slowly into the bathroom to shower, she swung her arms to loosen the tightness in her shoulders. Not wanting a repeat of the previous night and risk the pain from disturbing her stitches, she chose to forego washing her hair, instead, standing in the hot spray, she scrubbed her body down, running her hands vigorously along the muscles as she washed. She dried herself off, and quickly dressed in a short cotton nightgown, as the room was warmer than previous nights. She returned to the couch where she had slept the night before and, as she settled herself down, she missed his presence, so she allowed the tears to fall, soaking into the pillow that smelled of Remington.

While Laura was driving Sarah home, Remington was boarding the last ferry of the evening. Even though the air was still warm, it was already beginning to get dark, a change from just the two weeks before. He stood on the bow of the vessel, watching the water slice to the sides as the fast-moving ship brought him closer to Ireland and even closer still to Laura. His heart felt lighter than it had in months, the stress of what he had perceived Daniel held over him, gone. He knew who he was and for the first time in his life, he knew where he belonged and he couldn't wait to get back to Laura and share the letters he had found with her, especially the one from his mother.

Checking his watch every few minutes, time seems to tick by ever so slowly. The wind ruffled his hair, whipping his jacket tales around, but he hardly noticed, thinking only of getting back to Laura. To kill time, he impatiently paced around the ship, taking a lap on each deck before returning to his unspoken post at the bow, watching for the lights of Dublin to come into view. When he finally spied the first twinkle of the city on the horizon he exhaled, a smile plastered on his face.

An hour later, he departed the gangplank, scanning the small awaiting crowd for any sign of Terrence. He spotted him leaning against a dock piling, watching a pair of seagulls fighting over a scrap of food. Remington walked briskly, weaving his way through the departing passengers, "Terrence, my good man!" he called as he got closer.

"Your Lordship, I hope your trip to London was successful?" Terrence asked as he offered to take Remington's luggage with an extended hand.

"Thank you, yes, much better than I had anticipated. Happy to be back though, happy to be back," Remington clapped the man on the shoulder as they walked toward the car.

The two men had driven for just over an hour when they heard a loud pop and the car veered hard to the right. Remington braced his hands on the dashboard as Terrence fought to stop the car and pull it off to the side of the road. Remington stepped out with Terrence to survey the damage. "Not going to be easy to do this in the dark, your Lordship," Terrence stated as he began taking off his jacket.

Remington stripped off his own, rolling up his sleeves as he replied, "Well, between the two of us, we'll get it done in no time."

Terrence looked back at him, his eyebrows raised, "You don't need to do that, sir, I'll…"

"Say nothing of it. I can help, and it will get us home that much sooner," he insisted as he walked to the back of the car and opened the trunk, moving his suitcase to the back seat to get it out of the way. Remington retrieved the jack and lug wrench while Terrence went to work on extracting the spare tire from underneath the trunk board. By the time he appeared with the tire, bouncing it a few times to test the air pressure, Remington had raised the car up and had started on the first lug nut.

Grunting and cursing, he finally managed to spin it loose. Each nut was a tough fight and by the time he released the last one, Remington was perspiring, sweat running down the back of his neck. "This is worse than running with Laura," he muttered softly although he couldn't suppress the smile on his face when he thought of her. Lifting his head toward Terrence, he could feel raindrops beginning to fall, large drops splattering across his skin.

"It's almost done, sir. We'll be back on the road in no time. Hopefully, the worst of the rain will hold off until we've finished," Terrence informed him as he removed the flat tire, examining it. "Ah, there's the cause. A rather large construction nail from the looks of it." He pointed to the end of what appeared to be a rusty nail sticking out of the vulcanized rubber. "That will do it every time." He rolled the spare tire into place and Remington carefully lifted it and lined it up, giving it a wiggle to get the tire onto the lugs. He picked up each nut and spun it until it stopped. Terrence took the lug wrench and stated, "I'll tighten these. You did all the hard work."

Remington stood and backed up, giving Terrence space. He watched the headlights of the passing cars aware of the darkness around them, but it did not dull his mood. He wiped his damp forehead with the back of his hand, trying to avoid spreading the dirt on his hands to his face. As he waited, the rain began to fall faster and heavier, quickly soaking his shirt, the material sticking to his skin.

"Happens every time," Terrence announced as he stood, the last lug nut tightened. "Every time I've ever gotten a flat tire, it rains on me. Must be a sign of sorts. Good things always happen after though, I've got to admit. It's as if the bad is being washed away so the good can find its way to the surface." He released the jack and wiggled it from under the axle as Remington rolled the damaged tire to the back of the car. Together they wrestled everything into the trunk as the rain poured down.

Remington laughed loudly as they climbed into the front seat, his clothing completely soaked. "I hope this doesn't ruin the seats of this fine machine," he stated, his jeans sticking to the leather seats as he tried to make himself comfortable, his clothes plastered to his skin.

"She's seen her fair share of wet seats, I can assure you. After all, this is Ireland." Terrence joked as he pulled the car back onto the road, speeding back toward Ashford Castle, the wipers sweeping the windshield quickly.

"I'm not sure I want you to divulge more on that." Remington laughed, thinking of what had occurred between he and Laura in the Porsche the week prior. He smiled out the window, watching the rain run down the glass, trying to hide his face from Terrence lest he'd have to explain. Laura! Glancing down at his watch, he cringed at the time. Changing the tire had taken more than an hour so by the time they would arrive, it was going to be close to midnight. She would most likely be asleep, which meant sharing what he had discovered in London would have to wait.

Terrence drove slowly, the rain making their travel slower than ever, even with the light traffic on the road. When they finally pulled into the long driveway, Remington's jeans were only partially dried, his shirt uncomfortably stiff. The rain was still coming down steadily as Terrence stopped behind the car Laura had left near the garage door. "Looks like Mrs. Steele is back. Spent the day in Dublin with young Miss Sarah," he stated.

Remington climbed out of the car, his shirt soaking up the rainwater quickly, sticking to him again as he collected his suitcase from the back seat. He tapped the hood of the car twice, then turned toward the steps. He ran to the large doors, slipping inside with little noise as Terrence drove off toward the other side of the garage. Mickeline was standing at the end of the hall where Remington met him. "Good evening your Lordship, or should I say good morning?" Mickeline asked.

"I guess you could. You're working late this evening, I see," Remington replied as he ran his hand through his wet hair, sprinkling droplets around him.

"Still raining heavily, I see. Working on the logistics still, sir. Has my brain going in circles," Mickeline explained.

Remington nodded, "I'm quite familiar with the feeling however, you should get some rest. The paperwork isn't going anywhere. Mrs. Steele… is she…."

"Haven't heard a peep from her. Didn't even see her come back, just saw the car. She hasn't spoken to anyone since her return I would have to say," Mickeline stated.

"So, she didn't request dinner again this evening? Well, I should check on her myself. Thank you, Mickeline. Get some rest," Remington said as he began climbing the stairs.

"And brunch is set for eleven tomorrow morning, sir. Nice sized crowd you'll be having. The cook is excited to be serving a group of that magnitude. It's been too long," Mickeline answered enigmatically as he turned and left Remington standing on the stairs.

"Nice sized crowd? A handful of cousins makes a nice sized crowd? I shudder to think what he's going to do next week when the wedding guests arrive." Remington muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs.

He opened the door to their bedchamber quietly, knowing Laura was most likely sound asleep. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light of the room, his heart dipping when he saw her suitcase sitting on the bed and no Laura. Scanning the room, he spotted her curled up on the couch and, abandoning his travel bag by the door, approached her sleeping form with cat-like steps. She appeared to be uneasy in her slumber, her furrowed brow twitching restively. And was that tears that caught the light on her lashes?

His frown deepened and his jaw set. He did not understand what was afoot, but he was determined to face the situation with cool dignity.

He stood above her, hands on hips, looking furtively around the room as if some easy resolution to his current anxiety would emerge from the shadows. Was Laura really planning to leave? Was she leaving him? Abandoning them? Again?! They would have much to discuss, but right now, he needed a good sleep, and so did she, and the couch was not the place to get it. He nudged her feet over and perched on the available space left behind, bracing his arm along the back of the couch.

"Lau-ra..." he murmured then leaned over, calling her again, more insistently, "Laura!"

Laura awoke suddenly, and half rose in her startlement, "Where did  _you_  come from?!" She propped herself up with one arm behind her and rubbed her eyes with the other.

Remington's anger retreated at the sight of her half-asleep, tousled look. A pang of desire shot through him as he took in her mussed hair, flushed cheeks and the silky curve of her dappled shoulder, exposed by her slipping nighty, but he steeled himself to get to the bottom of the situation.

"Laura, what bloody hell is going on?" He nodded towards her suitcase, his blue eyes blazing. "Are you leaving me?!"


	10. Steele Combustible

Laura blinked her eyes repeatedly, dragging her hand down over her face until it came to rest at the base of her neck.

"Why in the bloody hell is your suitcase packed?" boomed Remington, "Were you planning on disappearing into the misty morning?"

Under the heat of Remington's blazing scrutiny, Laura pulled her sleeve back up over her shoulder. She squinted at Remington, his face deeply etched by the shadows. "What are you talking about?" she managed to reply, her voice gravelly with sleep. Noticing his soggy bedraggled state, she reached out and fingered his collar, letting it fall limply from her hand, "Why are you all wet?"

Her nightie whispered off her shoulder again and Remington swallowed hard, but leaped to his feet abruptly and began pacing furiously. After a few fraught turns, he came to a sudden halt and shoved his hand in the direction of the bed where her suitcase sat, "You've made it very plain! You plan to bring our relationship to a halt again, don't you? Once again, you will not give me a chance to explain, will you? Just at the very moment that I have ALL the explanations, you could possibly get from my murky past? Or maybe that wasn't ever it? Perhaps you've just been stringing me along all this time. A fancy frontman for your precious Agency! Is that it, hm?!"

Laura was stunned and then distracted by the intensity of pain in his azure eyes, framed by those black lashes, made more prominent by the dampness that seemed to have permeated his entire being. They were locked in a mutual stare for what seemed much longer than it actually was, he dripping and angry, she tousled and groggy.

Finally, Remington broke their eye lock, and turned, flinging his head back, his eyes sweeping back and forth across the ceiling, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed again. He appeared in quite a pathetic state, but Laura's anger rose up and swept aside the last of the sleepy cobwebs. She stood, whipping off the blanket covering her and snapped, "For your information, MR. STEELE, that suitcase has been sitting there since I returned Friday. Had you come back with me THEN, you would know that!"

"Had I returned?!... Laura, you have no idea what I've been through! I did what needed to be done!"

"And why couldn't you have included me in your...your..." she pressed her lips together, at a loss for words until finally, with a toss of her hands, she burst out, "...whatever enigmatic scheme you were executing?! Why couldn't you trust me?! That alone would have meant more to me than anything in the world! After all these years, all I do is pick up the pieces after you have gone and done some-"

"How can I trust you and confide in you when YOU don't trust ME! It goes both ways, my dear MISS HOLT! YOU are the one with little Faith!"

Laura looked at Remington as if she could disintegrate him with a laser beam. Her lips were mashed together as if some case-closing words were clamoring to escape, but instead, she turned away from him, hugging herself and rubbing her arms with her hands as she said into the darkness, "You don't know how it feels for me. I can't keep doing this. Every time I give myself over to you completely, every time I think we're heading in a good direction, you turn around and pull a stunt like this."

"A stunt?! I did nothing of the kind!" He bellowed indignantly. Laura turned her laser eyes on him again, and they stood there, chests heaving, glaring at each other. Remington relented first as he tried to explain, "It's true in the past I have had to use deceit as a means to an end, but you seem to forget that 'pulling stunts', as you so eloquently put it, was a means to survival for the better part of my life, and that is a difficult habit to shake..."

Laura jumped on the opportunity to drive home her point, "Exactly! And how do you propose we build a future on deception?" She spun away again, and Remington glared at her back, his lower jaw jutting out in pure fury, fisting his hands like steel.

He continued, as evenly as possible, "...but I have worked hard to break that habit, and I have been trying to assemble the pieces of MY past so that we can build OUR future..."

"Future?..." the echo of Laura's voice was suspended in the damp air and suddenly the sound of the rain coming down outdoors was deafening.

Remington felt his blood pumping in his ears and, taking a couple hard breaths, said with great difficulty, "Laura?!..."

Laura, with her back still turned, spoke over her shoulder, "I..." but she struggled to get the words out, "...I have zero defenses left."

At the sound of only the rain, she turned to fully face Remington.

A flash of lighting blanched his face, eliminating every etch, only to reveal naked hurt and fury and disbelief, "Defences? Defenses?!" his voice rose to a pitch unheard from him before, his grip on his own temper tenuous. "I have tried...again and again I have tried to give you what you wanted," he cried. "I have finally found the final piece to the puzzle. I have given you the WORDS you needed and you still feel the need to keep up defenses?! You truly are the most ridiculous, illogical woman I have ever met!" Remington was furious, his blue eyes flashing angrily.

Laura matched his fury head-on, "It's in my nature! Don't you get it!? After all this time, you still don't ..."

Remington cut her off, "Your nature?! No, your nature is to try to control everything and everyone around you. To put everything, — namely ME —," his eyebrows arched in defiance of the laws of nature at that, " — in its place!" The muscles in his neck twitched wildly as he continued, "Your nature is to not trust what your heart FEELS, but to follow what you THINK your head is telling you to..."

"Control!? How do I have control?!" Laura lashed back. "I lost control the moment you stepped into my life and turned it upside down! The only reason we are here today is because I relinquish control a little bit each day, and only because…" her voice came to an abrupt halt, her words left unspoken, and she reached up, gathering the neck of her nightgown and clumping it up apprehensively. With her other arm clamped across her middle, alarm flared in her eyes.

"Because what? Because you feel you need to control me in some other way? Because you can't control my past, so you have to control our future?!" Remington, angrier than he had ever been with her, accused, barrelling forth, all modicum of civility obliterated by the force of his fury and pain. "Like you controlled your Father disappearing? Like you controlled...uh, whatshisname..." he stumbled, rubbing his fingers together as if they would trap the name floating in his memory stash of useless facts, "...ah! Wilson! Did you control his leaving, his abandoning you? And what about Tony?! Oh, you controlled that magnificently! First, you fall prey to the blaggard's seduction, then to his obsession, all which escalated due to your ironclad CONTROL of the situation!..." He froze and spun in time to capture the hurt in her eyes before she turned away. Remington tossed his hands half-heartedly, walking a mini circle, then said, his voice weary, "Look, Laura, I've said it before, and I'm saying it again, we are none of us ever in complete control of our fates."

The storm outside raged ferociously and nothing but a stony silence emanated from Laura. Remington shuffled his feet nervously, fidgeting, his hands traveling haphazardly between his lips and the air in front of him, gesturing mutely in his loss for words. Finally, his hands coming to rest at his hips, he narrowed his eyes at her, and said, "It's late, why don't we go to bed and talk about it in the morning after we are well rest-"

"No..." Laura uttered before he could finish. Her shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep, shaky breath, attempting to regain her composure.

"What?" Remington's eyebrows twitched upwards in surprise.

"Nothing….I'm going to bed. I'm taking a guest room." She turned to the door, walking purposefully toward it.

Remington beat her there, slamming it shut with the momentum of his body before she could pull it open, "The HELL you are! This isn't over!"

"Isn't it?" Laura faced him, steely resignation armoring her countenance. He towered over her, but she leaned back, her chin tucked defiantly, glaring up at him coldly. Heat lightning crackled between them, and they were oblivious to the storm that roared outside.

Despite the powerful magnetism he felt towards her —the dichotomy of her, as if the impenetrable facade she presented radiated a heat so intense, it was on the verge of flames— despite all that, he was stunned by her cutting words, and he could not, would not defy them. He lowered his voice to a roiling simmer, "Laura, what are you saying?"

Unable to stand the hurt in his voice, Laura heaved a great sigh as her armor crumbled, and she reached up and began kneading her brows. "I'm sorry..." she grimaced and continued, "Oh, I don't know what's wrong with me. I just feel like I get kicked in the gut when you exclude me from your plans. And it makes me so angry, and, and,...and sad, and like I just want to... KICK SOMETHING!" Her gesturing hands outlined a mini mushroom cloud, then clenched before traveling back up to knead her forehead. Her eyes were concealed from him, her kneading hand covering them, but a bright flash of lightning startled her and she looked up, revealing a network of dampness streaking her face.

The rain hammered the windows and the thunder crashed directly above, signaling the rising intensity of the storm, as Remington just stood there frozen in disbelief.

"Laura?!..." he uttered, his jaw working from side to side, anxiously.

Laura continued, struggling with every word, "The funny thing is, it keeps happening and I keep coming back…I thought I was ready…" her voice trailed off quietly.

Remington couldn't move, a lead weight pulling him to the earth, threatening to pull him underground, "Are you saying you want to call it off?!"

"No, I'm saying-" Laura shook her head, still unable to finish her thought, but he cut her off before she could finish.

"What? What is it that you're saying?" he demanded. "I thought we were beyond all this! I thought once we got past who I am, who I was," he swiped at his mouth nervously before he continued, "that we, we-"

"Look, would you just listen, damn it?!" she snapped at him, splaying her hands, palms up, in front of her, but immediately tucking them under her once again crossed arms and shivering.

Remington froze again and was drawn in by Laura's intense gaze, which she tore away from him before she set out to orbiting an invisible spot in the center of the room. Remington leaned, exhausted and dejected, against the wall.

"What I'm trying to say is that it doesn't seem to matter what you do. I keep coming back….to you. Despite...everything!" she said, her voice getting quieter as she continued. "Despite my fears, despite all my inhibitions. As you've pointed out, I'm realizing that how I feel is more important than anything. And you feel like home."

Remington pushed himself off the wall, unsure of what he had just heard. Laura's back was to him, the small table lamp beyond her silhouetting her shape through her nightgown's gossamer-thin material. He walked slowly towards her, cautiously, almost tiptoeing, as if he might break the spell and her haloed form might vanish before he reached her. He stopped inches from her back, desperately wanting to touch her, but instead, he spoke, ever so gently, "In other words..."

Laura turned to him, dropping her arms, and, lifting her face to him, replied, "As they say, 'Home is where the heart is'..." she stepped up to him, tracing the V of his open collar with the tip of her middle finger, "...And my heart is with you...Come what may, I need to tell you that...You need to know…" Laura's eyes followed the path of her fingers and continued up to his lips, which were now whispering, "Laura!..." just before she was pulled into his arms for a crushing kiss.


	11. Every Cloud has a Steele Lining

Remington's hands moved up swiftly from where they had gripped Laura's arms to pull her to him, and were now holding either side of her face, his thumbs gently brushing across her cheeks while he kissed her lips with an unrestrained urgency.

Startled, Laura's eyelashes fluttered and then lay still as she was swept away by a longing she did not realize was bottled up inside her. His kiss ignited a powerful surge inside her core that she was powerless to extinguish, even had she wanted to.

"Laura, I thought I'd lost you..." Remington said between kisses, "You mean the world to me...You're my everything!"

Laura was nearly overcome by the speed of her arousal, her core turned molten at the feeling of his lips streaking down her neck, leaving behind a scorching trail. One of his hands traveled south, palming a breast and teasing her hardening nipple, the other braced her waist so that she might not teeter over.

But she was teetering on the edge of oblivion already, his prodding lips and probing tongue having had nipped and flicked her shoulders, sending shivers across her skin. By the time she felt his nimble fingers releasing the pearly buttons of her nightgown, she was desperate to tamp down her libido, stilling his hands in an attempt to regain control. She wanted to remove his shirt, which should have felt cool from the dampness but was warm to the touch, no doubt due to the heat they were generating. "Let me. I want to feel you..." She made quick work of his buttons, roughly pushing the material aside in her haste. He reached for her again as she went to work on his stiff jeans. Brushing her hair aside, he nuzzled her neck, pulling at her dappled skin with his lips and moistening each freckle with little, heated swipes of his tongue.

"Rem...this is hard enough without you distracting me with your...talents..." Laura said, her nightgown gaping open at the front and slipping lower and lower as she struggled to pop the button out of its hole. "It's hard alright..." groaned Remington, pulling back to see what the hold-up was. He froze for a moment, mesmerized by the unfettered view of the freckled path descending between the gentle slopes of Laura's breasts, feeling a sudden urge to kiss each rosy speckle along his journey to seek out her feminine treasures.

"Well?" Laura was looking at him with an intensity that stunned him, snapping him back to attention in short order. He grinned, a slight crease roguishly framing one side of his crooked grin. "That's what I love about you, Laura. You never get distracted from the ultimate goal." Laura grinned back, shrugging her shoulders smugly and flashing a set of her own dimples back at him while he released the button and pulled down the zipper. Laura stepped back to him and pushed his jeans down over his hips and he leaned in to nibble at her earlobes, all the while swiping at her nightgown until it fell away in a wrinkled pile of the floor. When she finally managed to peel the pants off him, he kicked them off his feet, sending the stiff bulk of material flying across the room. Before it hit the floor, Laura was on her toes, kissing him again, her fingers raking through the hairs on his chest, roving the plains as they traveled up and around to the back of his neck, pulling him close. Her lips did some traveling too, kissing and nibbling from the hollow at the base of his neck, following the sensitive tendon line up to below his ear. Remington grasped her waist with his hands and dropped his head in the cradle of her shoulder and neck, gasping, and murmured, "Laura...I missed you."

Their lips met again in a deep and searching kiss. For a moment, time stood still while they gave and took from one another, his fingers languorously trailing up and down her back, hers luxuriating in the soft hairs at his nape. Outside darts of rain were illuminated by the flashes of insistent lighting and thunder rumbled restively in reply, and they remained in their blissful embrace, cores bubbling as they stoked the fires of mutual passion.

The kiss ended, and Laura leaned back, unable to tear her gaze from Remington's lips, all red and swollen, both of them breathing heavily. She raised her lashes and looked up through them into his eyes, noting a constancy in his gaze that she had not seen before. An unbidden smile pulled at the corners of her lips and she said, "Time for bed, Mr. Steele."

Remington swung Laura up into his arms to carry her to the bed, all the while planting kisses on her waiting lips. When he arrived at the bed, Laura deepened the kiss and would not relinquish it even after he had laid her down. She used everything in her arsenal to distract him, kissing him deeply, until he tumbled awkwardly down next to her. She seized the opportunity to straddle him, never breaking the kiss, sliding back until she could feel the straining hardness of his erection snugly pillowed along her slick crevice, and languorously rubbed against him. She tilted her hips back and forth in rhythm with the undulations of their lip and tongue dance. Remington felt completely slayed by Laura, his arms spread wide on the bed, not having had a chance to recover from losing his balance before Laura assaulted his senses with her campaign of passion. Presently, her hands crept along his arms until their fingers met, threading together intricately. Laura guided their knitted hands slowly in two symmetrical arcs meeting above his head, luxuriating in their dance of love.

Remington finally came to his senses and extricated his hands so that he could feel Laura's soft curves under his palms. He caressed the length of her sides in one continuous sweep, making her quiver at the tingling sensation. He paused at her waist, spanning it with his hands, smiling into their kiss when he felt her sharp intake of breath, and before she could recover, he grasped her hips, joining her in her rocking motion. In response, Laura tilted her pelvis, sliding up along his length until she could feel him poised at her entrance. At that, they both broke the kiss in simultaneous gasps and all conscious thought left them as their primal needs took over. Remington moved his hands to her backside, pressing her to tilt just enough for him to slip inside. Laura arched her back and pushed herself into a sitting position to take him in fully and Remington groaned as he thrust up into her depths.

Suddenly, Laura inhaled sharply, and Remington halted his movement immediately.

"Laura! What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Remington sat up as best as he could and reached out, brushing Laura's hair aside to see her face.

"No!" Laura gasped, breathing heavily, her hand pressed against her abdomen. Suddenly tears welled up in Laura's eyes and she let out a hiccough just before they overflowed in a warm gush. She swiftly rolled off Remington and scrambled away from the bed with her back to him, her shoulders trembling as she wept silently.

Remington, stunned for a moment, repeated, but with added anxiety, "Laura?" He leaped off the bed to stand behind her, placing his hands gently on her. Looking around for something with which to cover her, he noticed a velvety throw blanket with a soft tassel fringe laying haphazardly at the end of the couch. He gathered it up, wrapping it around her shoulders and gently guided her back to the bed. From the box beside the bed, he yanked a few tissues loose. Glancing up at him in thanks when he handed them to her, Laura shook her head and said, "Sorry...I don't know what's come over me..."

Remington sat down beside her and placed his arms across her shoulders. "You're tired..."

Laura shook her head again, "No, it's more than that..."

"Laura, did I hurt you?" Remington asked nervously.

"Physically, no. Well, yes... a little... I've been so tense the last few days and my insides are a bundle of frayed nerves... but I know you wouldn't, you couldn't hurt me willfully, but...," she replied as her eyes filled with tears anew. She couldn't choke back the cry that followed, "Two nights ago in London, we… we… " she stuttered, "everything seemed so wonderful, on the right track, but, when I woke up, you were gone. You just left. After we had found all those gems... And then, as I thought back to our last time before you left, I began to see your hesitation...in retrospect...it seemed like you, you were planning to... " Laura hiccoughed again, "And I really thought you felt free to cut ties with me... and...A-a-a-and then I was furious when I realized you had made a plan without including me...and that doubt remained, churning inside me...and I felt everything, my hopes, and dreams crumbling all around me..."

"Laura," Remington interrupted, speaking earnestly, desperate to make her understand, "I didn't leave you, or because of you, or because I had found riches and decided I could make it on my own! That's preposterous! I left you a note, I called you right away, you knew where I was..." He adjusted the blanket snugly around her shoulders and reached in under it to rub her back slowly, feeling her body shake from the sobbing.

"You told me…. You told me you weren't leaving… you wouldn't leave… and then you did. I've always been afraid that day could come. Some part of me still clings to that fear? How do I get past your actions when they defy your words?" Laura cried, the words stilted. She pushed away from him, standing up, and pulled the throw protectively around her body.

Remington shook his head, shocked at her words. He had told her he wasn't going anywhere and yet, he did leave. Not for good, but even for that short period of time, he had opened the door of doubt in her mind at a crucial time. He could imagine how it must have felt to her, considering her history, and now, he could understand the walls that had built up around her heart once again. The walls he had worked so hard to break down in the first place.

"Laura...I'm here now... I'm here and I promise you, this is where I'm staying. For better or for worse...though I'm hoping the worst is behind us now," he said with a half-smile, but her only response was another stuttered shake of her shoulders. He stood up again intending to reach out and touch her but faltered. He stepped back for a moment and pondered, pinching his bottom lip. Finally, he turned back her and quietly spoke: "Laura, I think I'm trying to say the words, but it's possible, if not guaranteed, that I won't always get them right." Then he leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "I love you, Laura."

Laura turned and hugged him, her arms encircling his waist, wrapping him in the blanket with her. "I love you too, Remington." She pressed up against him, her cheek pillowed on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath the silky mat of hairs. Remington enveloped her in his arms, rocking her to and fro gently, kissing her forehead before tucking her head under his chin. "Laura, what am I going to do with you?"

"You could..." Laura paused then requested, "Dance with me."

"What?"

"Well, why not? I like holding you like this and dancing relaxes me."

"Hm...just a sec..."

Remington walked over to Laura's cassette player and rummaged through the tapes she had there. As he walked across the room, Laura had never been happier about his lack of inhibitions when it came to his nakedness, appreciating the way the minimal light created shadows that rippled over his skin as he walked, outlining the many assets of his lean and sculpted form. Suddenly the inside of her mouth felt very liquid, as her hunger for him stirred again, but the minute he turned from his task, satisfied with his selection, she feigned indifference through force of habit, quickly shifting her gaze to the storm-raged window panes.

Remington, however, had caught her molten stare just before she remembered herself and he hid a roguish grin from her, saying nothing of it. When he reached her, she gave him a sidelong glance as she slowly turned to face him, a hint of a smile quirking her lips and a blush warming her cheeks.

Remington offered her a hand, saying, "May I have this dance?" Laura, suddenly feeling a little shy, hesitantly unclutched her arms, opening the curtains of the throw blanket she was wrapped in, it's silky rope fringes shimmying loosely. Remington's hidden grin opened up and he slipped his hands underneath, encircling her with his arms, his hands resting lightly at the small of her back.

Quiet music lilted, and they swayed together, with no great urgency to keep time, carving a lazy circle on the rug underfoot. Laura laid her head against Remington's chest, soothed by his constant heartbeat, and he rested his head atop hers, turning occasionally to press his lips to her crown.

As one song ended and another began, Laura, lulled by Remington's palms caressing her back as the danced, breathed deeply and hummed into his chest, saying, "Mmmm, you feel so good, Mr. Steele."

And Remington smiled, "As do you, Mrs. Steele." Remington's peaceful expression shifted, his eyebrows quirking as if a thought had just struck him. "Laura?"

"Hmm?" was Laura's response.

"Did you say your hopes and dreams crumbled when you thought I had left you?"

Laura froze and replied, "Well, I...I... I'm not sure..."

"So, what you're saying is that I am an integral part of your hopes and dreams?!" Releasing Remington, Laura tried to pull away, but he held her fast and continued, "I thought the Agency was what mainly entailed your dreams?"

Laura was squirming, and took a moment to answer him, desperately trying to skirt the issue, "Well, the Agency is called Remington Steele Investigations and you ARE Remington Steele, so..."

"So, what?"

"So, somewhere along the way, those lines got blurred..."

"Hmmm..." Remington's lips begin inching closer Laura's.

"Really blurred..." Laura's voice became wispy as she started to feel the heady weight of his irrepressible magnetism. There was no denying it. She had to accept her utter inability to resist him. Her breath caught in her throat in anticipation of what was to come.

Thunder crackled in the distance the moment their lips touched, and Laura felt the belying subtlety of the delicate kiss infuse her senses, every nerve in her body tingling and screaming for more.

Remington smiled into their kiss when he felt her roll up onto her toes seeking a deeper connection and he responded in kind, reached up, trailing his fingers up and down the freckled column of her neck with gentle strokes. Keen to show her the full magnitude of his desire and love for her, he pulled Laura more snugly to him with his other hand at the small of her back, heedless of the knowledge that she would feel his erection pressing against her.

If he had harbored any doubts about her appreciation of his intentions and of his considerable assets, those doubts were now tossed to the blustery winds of the receding storm. Before he knew it, the luxurious throw that Laura had been holding around them was in a puddle at their feet and she had wound her hand around his shaft and was delicately grasping it and stroking it in a heady rhythm.

Laura tore her mouth from his to nuzzle her face in his chest while she continued her ministrations. She paused to tease the hardened buds on his chest, taking them each in turn between her lips with quick flicks of her tongue, then brought both her hands up to the middle of his chest and began nudging him, insinuating him towards the bed. He stumbled slightly when he encountered the single step of the platform but managed to remain upright, until the backs of his knees made contact with the bed, forcing him into a sitting position. Laura stood between his legs, and he found himself caught up in the deep brown of her eyes. Her gaze was unfocused with desire, and she rasped, "I need to feel you inside me..."

Remington, suddenly remembering her discomfort from earlier and began to object, "No, Laura... I don't want to hurt you..."

But Laura placed her finger on his lips, "Shhhh... You could never hurt me that way! I just needed to tell you how I felt, and I need to let go of my fears." she cooed, running her hands through the hair that framed his face, capturing it in her hands. She looked off into space thoughtfully, then back at him with new understanding. "I've always trusted you with my brain, but not with my heart and loved you with my heart, but not my brain. It's time to reconcile those warring factions of my psyche. I really thought you had left, but you came back and here we are..."

"My God, Laura, the things you say!..." Remington declared and tried to stand up, but Laura, with the nimbleness and cheek of a meadow fairy flitting about the wildflowers, straddled him and sank down on him, taking him deep inside.

Remington threw his head back and groaned when he felt himself ensconced in Laura's velvety depths. She was momentarily overwhelmed by the sensations of him thick inside her arching her back. The next moment she felt Remington nuzzling her breasts and she ran her hands through his hair, arching further to give him better access. Soon, they fell into a rhythm, Laura using her knees for leverage, rocking against Remington, and he placed one hand behind him and one around Laura's waist, pumping into her slick passage. They rocked against one another, he thrusting, and she meeting each thrust with the rhythmic tilting of her pelvis, instinctively finding the just right pressure on her mons. Laura quickly reached her breaking point, crying out with pleasure. Remington watched her as she shattered, stunned by the beauty of her coming apart like that right in front of his eyes. He captured her with both arms as she collapsed. Before she could recover he stood up with them both still joined and she automatically wrapped her legs around his waist. She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him groggily and he kissed her deeply. "Laura, you are without a doubt, the sexiest most beautiful wife I could possibly imagine!" he said when he ended the kiss. She was too senseless to respond, but he was already preoccupied with relocating their joined bodies up onto the bed, yanking the covers back and crawling them up far enough so that their legs did not dangle over the edge.

"Now, Mrs. Steele, we have some unfinished business to attend to..." Remington said breathlessly as he scanned the flush of Laura's neck and chest.

Laura, her passion rising again, answered him, "You always did want to mix business with pleasure, Mr. Steele."

Remington raised an eyebrow at her, and said, "You enjoy making jokes at my expense, don't you?"

Laura snickered, and retorted, "Mr. Steele! It's what I do!" He silently nodded, mouthing an affirmative "Oh!", his eyebrows and lips twitching, feigning casual nonchalance and, just as he had begun to say "You'll pay for tha-a-aghh!", Laura squeezed playfully, bearing down on his arousal, mangling the tail end of his repartee with a groan.

She had hoped to gain the upper hand and flip them, but before she could do so, he captured her hands, each in their own turn, and held them tightly clasped with one of his above her head. With his other hand, he braced himself above her, using the leverage to move slowly within her, thrusting forward and withdrawing as she squirmed beneath him. He repeated this action rhythmically several times, his blue eyes focused intensely on her brown ones until he felt the familiar stirrings in his belly. He picked up the pace and Laura cried out, dropping her head back in utter abandon. Remington found her neck with his lips as she arched her back, curling her body closer to his, her hip movement countering his, thrust for thrust. He knew the instant she peaked, feeling her twitch all around his shaft, and felt his body succumb to its own mysteries. Laura had extricated her hands from his and dug her fingers into his back at the moment she tumbled over the edge, crying out when she felt him jerk within her, his warmth flooding her deep inside.

Remington rolled onto his side and, wanting to keep her close, took her with him, their legs still intertwined. Laura followed limply like a rag doll, totally sated from their labors. They tenderly kissed away the beads of sweat strung across one another's brows, their fingers gently dabbing at the moistened landscape of their faces. Remington pulled the covers up over them and, before fatigue could claim him, he lifted Laura's face with one finger under her chin. Looking deeply into her eyes, he said, "Laura, I am sorry that my leaving hurt you." Laura cast her eyes down sideways, pursing her lips before her eyes met once more with his, "I think you've made up for it admirably, but...Thank you for saying that." With that, she leaned up to plant a soft kiss on his lips and nuzzled back into the crook of his shoulder and Remington released a held breath, quickly kissing the top of Laura's head.

The cassette player had long since clicked to a halt, the only music remaining was the dwindling murmuring of the lovers united. Just before fully succumbing to sleep, Remington stretched his long arm over to tug on the brass ball chain of a small bedside lamp, extinguishing what had been their sole source of lighting throughout the evening. A bright moon emerged from behind a scurrying storm cloud, it's silvery light forming a shimmering outline of the intricate knot that was Remington and Laura's entwined forms.


	12. Steele Interested

Feeling remarkably refreshed, Remington awoke to Laura's hair tickling his nose, her breathing soft and even. He leaned his head to the side, watching her sleep, her features peaceful and relaxed. Brushing her hair off her shoulder, he marveled at the freckles that sprinkled her skin, wanting to reach out and kiss each of them all over again.  _All in good time, old sport,_  he thought to himself.

Carefully, without jostling Laura too much, he reached for his watch on the bedside table. It was just past eight o'clock. Soon they would need to start preparing for Paddy, Christian and the rest of his kin to arrive. He and Laura hadn't discussed the family brunch for that morning, but he was certain she would have told him had she canceled the whole affair.

"Laura!" he whispered softly, hoping to wake her gently.

"Hmmm?" she replied sleepily.

"Laura, um, are we still on for brunch today with Paddy and the family?" he asked as he shifted slightly so he could see her face more clearly.

"Mmm hmmmm," she replied again without opening her eyes. "They'll be here at eleven. After church, he said. Go back to sleep." she ordered groggily, snuggling down further into her pillow.

"Lau-ra! It's just after eight now. We should probably start preparing for our company," he admonished, lifting his head and speaking a little loudly this time.

Her eyes still closed, Laura lifted her chin out of her pillow, insisting, "Preparations are done. Mickeline took care of everything." She then reached out, fumbling to find his head to push it back down on his pillow, "Sleep."

Smiling, Remington dodged her hand, instead, capturing it in his. He bent over to kiss her fingers. She kept her eyes shut tight but could not prevent a gamine grin from spreading across her face at the sensation. As she pulled her hand back, she affectionately pressed her lips on the spot he had kissed, before tucking it back under her cheek.

Remington smiled and lay back onto his pillow, still watching Laura, amused by the playful expressions that were hindering her attempts at feigning sleep. "That's my Laura, always one step ahead of the game."

Laura slowly opened her eyes and peered at him. "More like three steps behind, Mr. Steele," she said blinking.

Remington cleared his throat and avoided Laura's penetrating gaze, his fingertips swiping at some invisible lint on the sheets between them. "I take it you are referring to my decision to remain in London." Laura raised her eyebrows and looked at him expectantly. "Trust me, Laura, there is a very good explanation for that which you will be apprised of at a more opportune moment..."

"More secrets, Mr. Steele?" Laura bemoaned.

Remington looked at her, assessing his options, and decided on a diverting tactic.

"I know something that ISN'T a secret..." he said shifting closer to her while simultaneously grabbing her about the waist with his free hand to pull her to him.

"Oh? And what's that?" Laura said, placing her hand on his chest to keep him at bay and lifting her chin.

"That a certain beautiful and brilliant lady PI has pledged her troth to a certain thief-turned-detective with infallible instincts." He leaned in to kiss her lips.

After lingering for a little while, Laura ended the kiss with a soft pop, humming appreciatively. She leaned back, her brown eyes, smokey with desire, meeting his blue ones, iridescent like pools of mountain spring water. While holding his gaze, Laura's snaked her leg high up around Remington's thighs, pulling him closer, and reached up to smooth back the wayward lock of hair that bounced around his forehead, saying, "You know, we have plenty of time, really. They won't be arriving until eleven." Her fingers were now winding through his hair, meandering along the curve of his scalp, and trailing down the back of his neck. "Perhaps we could continue our…. reacquaintance from last night."

Remington was having difficulty focusing but made a valiant effort to stay on task, "How very bold of you, Mrs. Steele! However, there is something that I must show you before we meet our guests and..."

Laura would not be sidetracked. She shook her head, her fingers drawing intricate curlicues across his shoulders and back, and enjoined, "Come now, Mr. Steele. I am very thorough, and I don't like to miss anything. We need to make sure we've covered all the important points. We've been apart, and I need a full debriefing."

"Debriefing, eh? Well, that ship has sailed, I'm afraid..." Laura gave him a knowing smile, bending in her toned leg and pulling him more snuggly up against her with subtle undulations of her hips. Remington's breath became shallow as she began planting kisses along his forehead, moving to his cheeks and back towards his ear, but still, he was determined to get them both showered in short order, so there would be plenty of time to show Laura the letters.

"Laura, there really is something of the utmost urgency that I must show you!" He thought that he had made a convincing case, but too late he felt his arousal become prominent enough to poke Laura as she rhythmically bumped up against him and he felt her smile triumphantly against his skin before he could move away from her to put an end to her skilled seduction.

"Lau-ra-a!"

At this last Laura froze and pulled back to look at him, getting slightly perturbed now, "What? What do you want to show me?"

"Well, Laura, that's just it! I'd rather SHOW you than TELL you about it!"

"Hmph!" Laura cast her eyes down in frustration, but within seconds, a mischievous smiled quirked at the corners of her mouth and she lifted her lashes back up to Remington, who tensed looking at her warily, saying, "Lau-ra! I don't like that look in your eyes!" And before he knew it she had climbed atop him, renewing her irresistible undulations, and locked her lips to Remington's for a deep, wet kiss. Even though there was a tangle of sheets between them, Remington was seized by a powerful urge to overpower Laura and have his way with her, to engage with her in the sweetest of struggles.

But, once again, she shocked him by suddenly ending the kiss and climbing off the bed, taking the sheet with her to wrap around her body leaving Remington sprawled on the bed helpless and abandoned in a mess of sheets and unrequited desire. She turned to him, her hair tousled, and chin held high in defiance and triumph, saying, "Alright, Mr. Steele. Have it your way. But I get first dibs on the shower."

Remington looked at her retreating form in shock, the sheet trailing behind her as she disappeared through the bathroom door, slamming it for good measure.

Since he had long since relinquished sound judgment to an organ far below the brain, he followed her. Finding the door locked, he sighed and leaned up against it, one hand on the door panel, the other gripping the frame and spoke into the pinstripe of light that shone from the bathroom within.

"Laura? Um, perhaps we could shower together? You know, I'll scrub your back if you scrub mine? A bit of tit for tat?" he said hopefully, dropping his head while he waited for an answer. When it came, it arrived in the form of an irate, "What?" as Laura creaked open the door and glared at him through the crack. He raised his head when he realized she had actually opened the door and quickly applied his weight before she could close the door again, and they engaged in an inverted tug of war for a few seconds.

"Laura, come on!" Remington groused through clenched teeth, pushing against her through the door.

Laura suddenly stood back, lifting her weight off the door and Remington was sent tumbling off-balance into the small room. Trying to suppress a giggle, Laura watched Remington's naked lanky frame attempt to recover his balance before falling. Once he found his footing, Remington straightened himself to his full height and pressed his hand to his chest and stared at her. It didn't take more than a few seconds for her contagious giggle to get him laughing as well. Reaching out he pulled her sheet-wrapped body close to his naked one and said, "Look at the two of us, eh? We're a sight to see."

Laura cast her eyes down with a smirk, "Well, Mr. Steele, in your current condition..." her voice trailed off and she blushed, unable to finish her sentence.

Remington stepped back, his hands on his slim hips and stated, "I'd wager YOUR current condition is not much better than MINE, Mrs. Steele." He reached out to tug on the sheet, but Laura turned to avoid his grasp, clutching the sheet to her breast.

"Didn't you have something urgent you needed to show me? Hmmm?"

"But Laura we could have time if we indulge in just a smidge of-"

"A smidge?! Ha!" She looked at him incredulously, and added with raised eyebrows, "And what makes you think a smidge would suffice, Mr. Steele?!"

Remington stopped for a moment and, with pursed lips and raised eyebrows, nodded in agreement. "Well, you may have a point there, but-"

"No buts, Mr. Steele! Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to shower." She said with a crisp nod and turned. Letting the sheet fall and crumple at her feet, giving Remington an unhindered view of her backside an extra oomph to her sashay.

Remington thinned his lips in a deep frown and glared at her, saying, "This isn't over, Mrs. Steele!"

But Laura had turned on the shower and retorted, "Don't worry, M. Steele. I'll save you some cold water!"

Remington swallowed hard when he caught a glimpse of Laura's full profile as she turned into the spray. Misty through the translucent, water-streaked shower curtain, her delightful form was visible enough to hint at the bend of a toned leg as she reached down to lather it.

This was doing him no good, especially since he could see that she was determined, and frankly, seemed to be enjoying dangling the proverbial carrot in front of his nose. Singing a cheerful melody, she turned every few seconds to see if he was still watching her. She kept her movements slow and sensuous, drawing the razor up through the foam at an agonizing pace.

He blew out a frustrated breath and bellowed, "That better not be my razor!" He grabbed a towel to wrap around himself and turned to leave the room, unable to keep himself from stealing a couple more glances in Laura's direction. Just as he pulled the door behind him, he heard the tinkle of Laura's laugh echo around the bare walls of the bathroom.


	13. Words and a Picture

While Laura showered, Remington discarded the towel, opting instead for his robe while he unpacked his suitcase. On top were the items Laura had modeled for him at Harrod's in London. A smile crept over his face, even while his brow still furrowed, at the memory of her playing dress-up for him. Of course, the memory did nothing to diminish his current needs so he lay the pretty parcels on Laura's side of the bed for her to see.

Next, he pulled out the envelopes containing his important discoveries of the previous day in London and placed them beside his suitcase, becoming lost in thought as he finished unpacking. Faint echoes from the distant past, hopes for the future, and the undulating landscape of the present, even the slight irritation of his current predicament, combined together as they had never done before, forming a colorful and cohesive mosaic of his life.

He'd hardly noticed the sound of the shower cease and looked up in surprise when Laura emerged from the bathroom, her robe tightly tied at her waist. He had been so wrapped up in thought he had forgotten his ire with Laura and began to greet her cheerfully, "Laura! There y..."

"Don't..." Laura cut him off as she swept past him, trailing a fresh clean scent behind her.

"But Laura, I..."

"Look, we have company coming and we have some business to conduct before that. While you shower I'll have Mickeline arrange tea for us in the Gallery," she concluded and turned on her heel to finish unpacking her own afore abandoned bag.

Remington looked at her back, slightly perplexed, but amused at her having so abruptly and steadfastly assumed her business-like demeanor. He dropped his hands, which had been frozen in mid-gesture and, leveling an affectionate gaze at Laura's retreating form, said, "I only wanted to say; It's good to be home." Then he turned, plucking the towel from the chair, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Laura froze and swung around with a look of genuine surprise on her face, her mouth pursing in a relenting smile. Her eyebrows rose anew when she heard the sound of Remington's whistling percolating through the bathroom door.

Remington was showered and shaved quickly and attired himself in dress pants, an elegant button-down shirt, and navy blazer. He considered a tie, but decided against it, thinking to himself, Patty and his family will not stand on ceremony, surely!

Within minutes he appeared in the Gallery, the envelopes in hand. Laura stood near the tall windows, sipping her tea from cup and saucer. Remington stood back for a moment to admire the alluring picture she presented. With her hair swept off her neck in a loose bun, she had donned the impeccable black pencil skirt and white cashmere sweater top they had purchased at Harrod's and had added her own fitted pink blouse under the sweater to compliment the outfit. From below the skirt, the sheen of her calf-hugging stockings gracefully tapered down to her delicate ankles that teetered appealingly over the thin heel of the slingbacks she favored, much to his great appreciation.

Right from the very start, he had been captivated by the unique puzzle Laura presented. Like a dusty lump of coal under pressure, she emerged from her trials in life shining brighter than any prize he had ever pursued.

Feeling his eyes on her, Laura turned and flashed him a brilliant smile. "Good morning, Mr. Steele!" She approached the shamrock tea service that had been arranged on a handsome buffet that stood against the wall and poured Remington a cup. As she handed it to him, she eyed the envelopes he was slipping into his blazer pocket.

"Is this what you had to show me?" She asked casually, freshening her own cup.

"Uh, yes, but first..." He accepted the tea and slowly walked, Laura following expectantly in his wake, around to a settee that was positioned in the middle of the room, an ornate coffee table ahead of it. He was about to continue when he noticed Laura standing frozen, looking at him with some apprehension. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

"Oh! Certainly!" Laura sat down and tried to appear relaxed as they sipped their tea for a spell.

Finally, Remington began, "Laura, I realize that despite our outrageously fulfilling reunion last evening..." he laughed quietly as a bit of color rose to his face, and interjected, "...Ever since we crossed that line, I can't seem to resist you,..." his gaze darted toward Laura briefly before he continued, "...but I must know...Did you really think I would leave you?"

Laura pondered for a moment, finished her tea, setting it on the table, and finally said, "I didn't want to believe it, but there was always a kernel of doubt ready to explode to twice it's size if things got heated... I think what scared me more was how upset I was in your absence..." she shook her head and gestured towards him with a back swipe of her hand, struggling to find the words, "...AT your absence... When you were gone, I felt lost..." She dropped her head for a moment, then continued with renewed energy. "I want to be my own person, regardless of our relationship. Whether it be passionate or tenuous, I still need to hold things together, to carry on being me I need to know there is still ME in US." Laura looked up at Remington when he did not answer right away. His eyes had glazed over at her speech.

"Well, say something!" Laura beseeched Remington, for whom an answer had still remained elusive.

Finally, after a twitch of his eyebrow and a quirk of his lips, he replied, "Would you settle for me in you?"

Laura was puzzled, "You in m...? Oh, you! I thought you seriously wanted to know, but you insist on countering with flip remarks and adolescent passes!" She stood abruptly, glaring at him and fisting her hands. Another moment and she would have walked away, but Remington clasped her hands in his and pulled her back down to sit beside him.

"Lau-raa...I was kidding...Of course, I want to know. Otherwise, I wouldn't have asked."

He held her hands in his, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles and continued, "Look, Laura, I don't pretend to understand the intricate workings of your brain, but I do know that when I returned, you were still here, and these letters," he said patting his breast pocket, "are just as much for you as they are for me."

Laura's raised her eyebrows, her curiosity piqued, "What do you mean?"

"The first letter is from Daniel and thankfully confirms for us that he had no hidden agenda in bequeathing me the vast property on Wimpole Street. It appears he was sincere in his intention to have me establish a foundation for orphaned boys and to use that magnificent building in London to house said foundation. He had already set into motion establishing a well-healed board of directors with the help of Katherine Galt who, as you might imagine, is very well connected."

Laura automatically focused on the logistics of the particulars of the foundation. "She would be an ideal ambassador for the cause, having witnessed firsthand her husband's grief over his long-lost son..."

"Yes, and not only that, Mr. Taylor will make sure that everything going into the foundation is legal..." Remington answered, and added, speaking very quickly now, "...But the material point here is that..."

Laura's hand shot out to grasp his arm, "You mean he knows about the gems we found?!"

Remington looked at her with puzzlement, "Who? Oh, Mr. Taylor! Oh yes, I met with him again. He's quite the character, Mr. Taylor is. I have implicit faith in him. He and Daniel were cut from the same cloth it appears...But Laura, what I'm trying to tell you is that..."

Laura interrupted him again, "Really!? I didn't get that impression from him. He seemed so well established and..."

Remington, exasperated with Laura's evasion, placed his hands on her arms so as to get her full attention.

"What I'm trying to say is, this letter from Daniel confirms that there is no threat through me and my inheritance, to you or to the agency." Remington was looking at Laura, his blue eyes unmistakably sincere.

Laura's armor faltered slightly under his keen gaze, but she recovered immediately and said, "Is that why you left without telling me? You were worried you posed a threat to me? I can take care of myself you know. I always have."

"Yes, well, as I have pointed out to you before, that was before I came into your life and your well-being became a personal vocation of mine."

Laura took a stuttered breath, alarmed at the way his words inspired both irritation and affection somewhere deep within her. She almost betrayed the latter with a slight flutter of her eyelashes, but quashed it deftly, her eyebrows furrowing as she glanced away to maintain her composure. She took in a measured breath and was about to unleash the former with sharp words when there was a knock at the door and Mickeline entered, "I apologize for interrupting but it's just 10:30 and everything is ready for your guests to arrive," he informed them.

Concealing his irritation, Remington replied, "We'll need a few more minutes, Mickeline. When Paddy and his family arrive, show them to the…" Remington stopped, realizing he had no idea where they were serving brunch.

Mickeline jumped in to clarify, "We've set everything up in one of the suites. But sir..."

"Very well, Mickeline, my good man. Mrs. Steele and I will be along shortly." Remington said and turned back to Laura. Mickeline took a breath as if to say something, but thought better of it and left the room.

"Now, where were we...Ah yes,...I have something else to show you..."

Remington drew the second envelope from his blazer pocket and fingered it as he said thoughtfully, "I never expected this...any of this...but this letter… This letter made me realize how important words can be. If I had never seen this, if this had been lost, I never would have known…."

His voice trailed off and, without another word, he handed the envelope to Laura. She took it, holding her breath and, seeing that the paper was yellowed and fragile, she opened it carefully, pulling out the letter inside. She lay the envelope down before unfolding it and, discovering the photograph inside, gingerly held it by a corner between her thumb and middle finger. She scrutinized the image, her heart melting at the pretty young mother whose arms were lovingly curled around her swollen belly. Laura turned it over and read the caption, her breath catching when she saw the word "Acushla".

Laura, hungry for more information, gently lay the photograph atop the envelope and proceeded to read the letter that accompanied it, her eyes tracking hastily back and forth across the page.

When she finished, she looked up to see Remington staring at her, eager for her reaction. It was all there, in the prismatic clarity of his blue eyes, the knowledge that his beginnings were not that of an unwanted pregnancy...that he had had his mother's love...that he had been destined to have a family until Fate played its merciless hand. With his cheery disposition, he likely felt that finding these precious words from his Mother and Father almost made up for not having had his own family.

In a moment of blinding insight, Laura understood his hesitation to open up to her during their long and protracted courtship. If one could even call it that she thought privately. But that cynical thought was immediately trampled by a great white beast of a thought; that his hesitation of all those years had been a testament to his profound and sincere love and respect for her.

Remington saw the moment of her enlightenment and their eyes locked with new understanding, and they reached for each other in an embrace, not unlike two people reunited who had been cruelly separated for decades.

"She loved me!" Remington's voice was muffled as he buried his face in Laura's shoulder. "...My mother...she loved me and she loved Daniel...She wanted us to be together...a real family, Laura! She had hope for the future...for all of us!"

Laura held him tightly and rubbed his back with her free hand, the other still holding the letter. She closed her eyes as she felt him shudder, finally banishing all the tension of the last few years and more, from his system. All the artifice, all the airs, all the disappointment at his failed attempts to discover his origins trickled away, dispersing into nothingness.

But no! Laura thought to herself and pulled from the embrace, even as Remington clung to her, reluctant to let her go. She quickly laid down the letter and leaned forward, pressing her lips to Remington's forehead as she reached for his head with her hands, stroking and smoothing his ebony crown as she said,

"I loved you either way, Rem. You must know that!"

"I do. I do now, but I was always afraid I might lose you."

"Hey, I married you! It wasn't easy, but it all worked out. And I agreed to marry you again, regardless of your history! Those words," Laura looked at the letter and back at Remington, " incredible and precious as they are, change nothing! I've loved you for a very long time."

This got Remington's attention, and he looked at Laura, his lashes sparkling with tears. Laura's hands had now come to rest in the vicinity of his jawline, her thumbs stroking his cheeks, while she leveled an exasperated but affectionate look at him, her own eyes threatening to tear up. Remington shook his head in her hands and placed one hand atop one of hers and the other wove up between her arms to cup her neck possessively, "In a million years, Laura...I could not have come up with someone quite like you. I count my lucky stars every night that I have you beside me. I always have, but especially now..." He then captured her lips with his for a heart-pounding kiss, leaving them both breathless when they finally separated.

They looked at each other, mutually awed by all that had come to pass. When he began to smile, she smiled back at him, drawing a toothier grin from him, then laughter. He pecked at her lips again with unfettered joy, then suddenly sat back and exclaimed, looking at his watch, "Perhaps we should go. Paddy and his wife and family might be here any moment!" Laura had swiped the kerchief from his pocket and was dabbing at the dampness around his eyes. When she had folded and replaced it in his pocket, he reached for the letters to stow them back in his blazer and Laura picked up the picture again to look at it. "She was beautiful!" she exclaimed, her tone bittersweet, then stated with mild surprise, looking back and forth between the photograph and Remington, "You look like her! Although I don't know why that surprises me since you certainly didn't take after Daniel."

Remington took the picture, arranging it inside his Mother's folded letter, saying. "Well, maybe not in the looks department, but in other ways. He was clever, quick-witted, agile, charming -" Remington listed off several inherited traits as he tucked the envelopes back in inside breast pocket, his grin widening with each descriptor as he stroked his jaw. Laura's smile faded the more he spoke and, folding her arms and rolling her eyes, she cut in sternly, "Would you kindly skip the inventory? We have a small shire's worth of your long-lost extended family waiting to greet you and they are likely very hungry. This is hardly the time to preen!"

Remington frowned and shrugged good-naturedly at Laura's chastisement and, adjusting his collar and sleeves, started towards the door, "Coming Mrs. Steele?"

But Laura pulled him back by the arm to stand before her. She made a show of brushing off his shoulders as he looked at her in bewilderment and, slipping her fingers under the lapels of his blazer and drawing them slowly down, added in a sultry tone, "However, I'd like to have a closer look at said inventory in the privacy of our chambers...preening accepted and appreciated." She concluded with a pretty pout, suppressing a smirk, and knowing nod.

Remington pursed his lips into a small o, and replied in a velvet tone, "Oo, absolutely, Mrs. Steele." He leaned in to kiss her but froze, his eyebrow's arched, "Wait, long-lost EXTENDED family? I thought it was only Paddy and his immediate family?" Remington asked looking alarmed.

Laura looked up uncomfortably and raised her eyebrows in an oops-forgot-to-tell-you-that look, and mumbled something like, "Well, that number may have grown from there..." sidestepping Remington and walking around him toward the door. Over her shoulder, Laura tossed airily, "This is YOUR family also, Mr. Steele. And it seems that Paddy made sure this is a family gathering you will never forget."

Remington spun around in time to see Laura's heel disappear behind the door, and he hastened to catch up with her. "Lau-raaaaa…," he called after her. "Did you forget to tell me something?!" Laura's indignation met his pique head-on as they continued their little spat, "Well, what did you expect?! We've been rather...BUSY with...things...!" Through the door, the muffled sound of their receding voices could be heard clattering around the walls of the vast hallways of the old Castle.


	14. Back in the Fold

Remington and Laura ceased their sparring when they saw one of the castle maids round a corner and walk toward them. After a brief conversation about the location of the brunch, the maid led the Steeles down two flights of stairs and a long corridor towards the other side of the castle.

In a hushed whisper, Remington nervously asked out of one side of his mouth, "Laura, what did you mean 'a gathering I'll never forget'? Is there something I should kn...?" Hastily straightening up, he put on a wide grin, as another member of the castle staff, laden with a stack of folded linens, approached them, walking in the opposite direction. He and Laura nodded a strained greeting as she passed, glaring at each other when they could do so unobserved, as they hurried to keep up with their escort.

Laura bit her top lip as she tried to think of a way to break the news to Remington that a very large party of his long-lost relatives awaited his arrival at the brunch. Wringing her hands nervously, she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, they entered a hall which served as a bridge to another wing of the castle. The space housed a collection of fine art, it's high ceilings and large arched windows lining the walls above allowed for the room to be bathed in sunlight, illuminating every exquisite detail of the artwork before them. The grand hall took Laura's breath away and she could but utter one word, "Wow!", as her eyes widened at the beautiful artwork surrounding them.

Laura slowed her pace to a crawl as she took in the expert brush strokes of the paintings, the polished curves of the magnificent granite sculptures and the intricate detail of the alto-relievo wall carvings of men on horseback, carefully chiseled into panels of shiny dark mahogany that adorned the walls of either side of the great room.

As she walked along slowly, she felt Remington's hand slip slowly around her waist. He was watching her rather than the artwork. Having seen his fair share, at the moment he was more enraptured by her enthusiasm with the masterpieces that surrounded them. Her skin was radiant, and her brown eyes shimmered with excitement.

But still, he couldn't resist goading her. "Laura, much as I am anticipating the effects that art in the style of the old masters has on you, I was under the impression that you preferred modern art..." Remington's eyes follow her gaze as it followed the ivory curves of a statue depicting a pair of lovers kissing. "...No dusty carburetors..." Laura leveled a stern glare in his direction as he continued his teasing, "...not a single nut or bolt to be found!" Laura had stopped, her lips pursed, her arms folded.

Remington now stuffed his free hand into his pocket as he rounded casually to face Laura. As soon as his eyes met hers, she brushed past him and sniffed at his assessment of her and retorted, "Oh really, . As far as appreciation of the old masters goes, there may be some things you don't know about me..."

Remington blocked her with his arm as she tried to pass him, and she turned to him with a questioning, albeit defiant, look, "Indeed, I look forward to understanding every mysterious nuance of my complex and enigmatic wife..."

She watched his lips wide-eyed as they descended upon hers, soft as a whisper but full of promise and a sweet possessiveness which, since their earliest acquaintance, she had been unable to resist.

The echoing click of the giant mahogany doors being opened by the maid who had led them downstairs interrupted their interlude. But even as they ended the kiss, they remained in one another's arms.

Mickeline appeared in the doorway and stepped into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him. "Mr. Steele, your lordship, Mrs. Steele. Your guests are waiting when you are ready", he announced and waited patiently for them to approach him.

Remington exhaled a shaky breath, suddenly reminded of his apprehension. He tried to play off his hesitation as he asked lightly, "Well Mrs. Steele, shall we greet our guests?"

Laura searched his face and was not fooled. "How are you feeling? Are you ready for this?" she asked, brushing the stubborn lock of hair off his forehead and smoothing it back in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

Remington pressed his lips to her forehead as he whispered, "No. I'm utterly terrified. I know it's just Paddy and a few cousins, but, it's  _family_ , something I'm not used to having in my life. "

Laura looked at him, her eyes soft, wishing she could banish his anxiety, but she was battling an inner struggle of her own at the moment. She hadn't told him yet, that Paddy had managed to amass nearly thirty family members who were keen to welcome their lost lamb back into their fold. But he was so nervous already, she wasn't sure that limited information would be helpful at the eleventh hour. She reassured him with an air of confidence that belied her own apprehension, "Don't worry. You'll be just fine." And, patting his chest, she added, "Just relax and be you." Then she straightened his collar, adding with a smirk, "And don't slouch." At this, he gave her a withering look, "Remington Steele never slouches." Disregarding his indignation, she gave him a warm smile, her eyes bright, and kissed his cheek, adding, "That's right! You ARE Remington Steele; Mine, ours AND yours!" At this, Remington finally grinned, comforted by the fact that he was not alone, and offered Laura his arm, which she took without hesitation.

When they joined Mickeline he greeted them, "Welcome to the Ardilaun Room, Your Lord- and Ladyship." In a conspiratorial undertone, he added, "It's going to be one of our premier dining rooms once we are up and running!" Remington and Laura smiled at him in acknowledgment of his enthusiasm, and Mickeline smiled back. "Allow me to announce you before you enter..." he said, before stepping ahead of them. Remington looked at Laura and, with a smirk, said, "Ah, an introduction befitting our reputation..." Laura shook her head with amusement just as she heard Mickeline's voice, "The Lord of Ashford Castle, Remington Chalmers Steele, and her Ladyship, Laura Elizabeth Steele." Remington heard the applause of the individuals in the room and thinking it was mostly the staff, his jaw dropped when he stepped inside the elongated room.

Before him stood his family of mixed ages, Paddy and Christian among them. He looked to Laura for support, unsure of how he should react to the group before him. She reached out her hand and after taking his, gave it a squeeze of reassurance. Remington swiped his mouth, pursing his lips together before saying, "Thank you, everyone. I'm glad you're here."

Paddy stepped forward first and pulled Remington into a back-slapping hug as he announced loudly, "It's about time you've been returned to us. You're home now!" Remington returned his hug, batting his eyes to fight the tears that threatened to fall.

Laura stepped forward to greet other members of the family and introduce herself. She began with Paddy's wife Kate who was holding their two-year-old grandson, Ryan. Next, she met Ryan's parents, Paddy's daughter Allison and her husband Michael Griffin. She leaned down to say hello to some of the children. She quickly lost track of who belonged to whom as they all looked similar, the characteristic dark hair and bright blue eyes, though there was a fair number of redheads among them. She couldn't help imagine a child of their own might also have the same features.

Paddy pulled Remington toward the men of the group where he was greeted with hugs from all of them. Paddy introduced his brothers, Paul and John, pointed out their wives across the room and apologized for his sister, Elizabeth's, family's absence. Remington assured him it was fine, and they would meet again.

An older gentleman stepped forward and whispered in Paddy's ear. Paddy nodded to the man and introduced him, "Remington, I'd like you to meet your mother's cousin, Zach O'Brien. You lived with him and his wife, Helen, for a brief spell when you were about five after his sister Anne died in a tragic drowning."

Remington pondered the man for a moment. His red hair faded into white, his blue eyes once bright were now clouded with age and his body which would have stood tall at once time curved with age. Remington offered his hand to Zach who reached out with a shaky hand of his own. "Mikey, no, sorry, Remington, I don't know what to say. We let you down, son," Zach said with a gravelly, shaky voice, "we didn't mean to. We've spent years praying you'd find your way home."

Remington didn't hesitate. He pulled the man closer and wrapped his free hand around his shoulder. "Zach, whatever happened, I'm sure you did the best you could. I've no hard feelings, sir. My wife, Laura, and I are touched and overwhelmed by this monumental welcome!" And, affecting a rueful look in her direction, added, "Although, I suspect she knew more about it than she let on..." Laura suddenly looked in his direction and caught his playful glare and scrunched up her nose at him.

Zach observed Remington and Laura's silent exchange and began to laugh but was immediately overcome with a violent cough. He leaned forward, holding his chest as he fought to catch his breath. His wife, Helen, quickly moved to his side and guided him to sit. Remington poured him a glass of water and handed it to Helen. Zach coughed loudly for another minute before the wheezing subsided. "Is there anything I can do?" Remington asked Helen. He couldn't help but think of Daniel's last few days, the same cough that racked his frail body.

Helen shook her head, "No, but thank you. He just needs to settle himself and not get too worked up. This began not too long after we took you in. It's one of the reasons we had to let you go. His lungs were so weak at that point, we didn't know how to support you and his health. We never had any children of our own and giving you up, well, it nearly broke both of us. You were a reminder of Siobhan, a bright spot in our lives at the time. We could only pray you had a good life, a good family took you in."

Remington could see the love in her grey-blue eyes as she looked at him and knew at that moment, he didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. He cast his eyes upward before he glanced back over his shoulder toward Laura. She was leaning against a window sill with a little girl about five in her arms, pointing to something out the window. She was a sweet little child, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing as she bobbed her head from side to side as she followed Laura's finger. Laura must have sensed him watching her because she met his gaze and smiled back at him as she shifted the child higher on her hip.

Remington placed his hand on Zach's shoulder as he leaned down to say, "Sit for a spell. I'll get a cup of tea for you." Zach nodded appreciatively as he covered Remington's hand with his own shaky one. Remington quickly found a tea tray and poured a cup, adding a slice of lemon to the side and returned to Zach. Another gentleman was now sitting with him, talking in low tones. Remington cleared his throat as he approached, alerting the men of his presence. He placed the steaming mug of tea on the table beside Zach.

"Remington, this is your cousin, Timothy. He is Paul's second oldest. And that little sprite your wife is holding is his daughter, Piper," Zach introduced them. Remington offered his hand and Timothy shook it enthusiastically.

"I was wondering who the new Lord was going to be. And when Christian mentioned you were a hotshot detective from Los Angeles, well, I have to admit I was quite surprised to find out you were Siobhan's boy. We've been told stories of you since we were kids. Siobhan was very special to all the cousins. Having you here will bring peace to many," Timothy stated as he glanced around the room.

"It's such a shame Siobhan's brother Eddie couldn't be here today," Zach said quietly.

Remington raised his eyebrows in surprise but before he could respond, Paddy began tapping a water glass with a fork. "Can I get everyone's attention, please? And that means you, Christian!" Paddy smiled at his son who was standing in the corner flirting with one of the servers. The room filled with giggles and laughs then quickly quieted down. With a look in Remington's direction, he began to speak.


	15. Secrets from the Past

"Most of us are familiar with the family story of Siobhan and how she ran away to England to escape her father, Keigan O'Brien. It was in England where she met the man she called her soulmate. Most of us never met him, although, through Siobhan's imagery, we all felt we knew him. When she returned to Ireland, she was so excited for her babe and their future, but fate intervened," Paddy began his monologue. He glanced around the room to see all the expectant faces of the extended family that gathered together.

"Mara did what Mara did. She never gave us the chance to say a proper goodbye to Siobhan, nor did she give us the chance to see her son grow and thrive in a way that Siobhan would have ensured, had she survived. Instead, Fate interceded again, and due to a series of health issues and horrible mishaps, Siobhan's treasured Acushla was shuffled around and eventually lost to us. But now, Providence has brought him back to us in the most unexpected way," Paddy smiled at Remington. "Remington, we cannot change the past, cannot bring back Siobhan, nor can we ever fully understand everything that has happened in your life, but know this. You will never be alone again. Welcome back, cousin!"

Paddy raised his water glass in a toast to Remington, who was now blushing uncharacteristically, a healthy shade of pink reaching even the tips of his ears. He touched his fingers to his lips, contemplating a reply, but before he could form the words, Christian carried over a cheerfully wrapped gift box and placed it on the table before him.

Paddy laughed at Remington's bewilderment as he looked at the gift. "If memory serves us right, we've missed your most recent birthday. So, consider this a small token of many more gifts in the future," he explained.

Laura watched Remington from the windows. His emotions, although he was trying hard to hide them, flickered across his face and eyes like the images of an old-time movie reel. With a smile, she passed young Piper off to her father and silently moved across the room. She slipped into the seat beside Remington and slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. He acknowledged her presence with a steely tilt of his jaw and the hint of a smile on the corners of his mouth.

Remington patted Laura's hand as he stood to give Paddy a hug. Tears threatened to spill from his bright blue eyes, but he rapidly blinked them back. He turned to face the family and after a quick glance in Laura's direction, he took a deep breath. "I don't know what to say, really. I'm not going to go into detail about what has transpired over the course of the last twenty odd years. I'll say nothing more than if it weren't for those events, my wife and I would never have crossed paths, nor would I be here with all of you. So, call it Fate, call it Providence or call it simply dumb luck, it doesn't matter. What does matter, is that we are here again, together...", he was at a loss for what else to say, his customary eloquence failing him as he was overcome by emotion.

Paddy, perceiving Remington's unease, now spoke, "Remington, in that box, I hope you find some peace, some connection with your mother," Paddy gestured toward the gift.

Remington couldn't hide the grin that followed, lighting up his face. He lifted the box and made short order of the colorful wrapping paper, much to Laura's chagrin. He dropped the box onto the table and shimmied the cover off, revealing something wrapped in light blue tissue paper. Carefully he pushed the delicate paper aside. Laura peered into the package and watched as his now shaking hands lifted the contents.

Remington held a sketchbook, the pages yellowed with age. He looked at Paddy, one eyebrow raised. At Paddy's nod of encouragement, Remington slowly opened the fragile book. On the inside cover was an inscription, "My return to Ireland and all I've left behind, Siobhan." It was dated March 1953.

On the very first page staring back at him was a hand-drawn image of Daniel, much younger than Remington ever remembered. His face was devoid of any age lines, his hair shaded darker with the charcoal pencil with which it was drawn. She had managed to capture the sparkle of his eyes, the hint of the mischievous nature of Daniel and staring into his face, Remington could see a bit of himself as well, something he'd never noticed before.

Remington brought a hand to his mouth and turned the page. This was a colored pencil drawing of a home Remington sensed was familiar, but he had no idea why. He looked up to Paddy for an answer. "That's the house where you were born. Mara's house. It's several hours north of here. Siobhan wanted to stay with family, but as far away from her father as possible. We begged her to stay closer, but she would not hear it. In those days, it wasn't easy traveling those long distances, so it was difficult to keep up with how things were going for her. It was in that house that she...," Paddy's voice trailed off at the sad memory of first hearing of Siobhan's death so long after it had happened. Fighting back the tears, Paddy finished in as composed a voice as possible, "At any rate, it was your first home."

Remington nodded, took a deep breath and flipped the remaining pages slowly. Laura rubbed his shoulder lovingly, fascinated with the talent on display before her. "Now I understand where you get it from," she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. Remington didn't reply, he simply placed one hand over hers and rested his chin on their collective hands.

Closing the book carefully, he stood and pulled Paddy into a solid embrace. "Thank you. I don't know what else to say," he muttered close to his ear.

"Welcome home, cousin, welcome home," Paddy replied as he clapped him on the back. Stepping away, Paddy announced again, "Now we celebrate!"

Mickeline took this as an opportunity to announce the brunch buffet was ready to be served. Remington turned to Laura, his eyes said the words his mouth couldn't form. He was overwhelmed with emotions he had never felt before. She simply slipped her arms around him, nestled her head under his chin and whispered, "He's right, let's celebrate."

Remington dropped a kiss on the top of her head, scrubbed his face with one hand then allowed a smile to cross his face. "After you, Mrs. Steele," he stated as he guided her toward the line of adults and children.

"Your lordship, please, sit. Marybeth will bring you a dish," Mickeline steered them out of line to sit at a table beside the window overlooking the colorful flower gardens below.

Remington settled himself in the chair closest to the windows, so he could face the room, Laura to his left. Marybeth, one of the newest servers, brought two plates heavily laden with a sampling of their meal. Remington smiled and thanked her, his eyebrows bobbing in Laura's direction. "Don't get any ideas," she stated firmly. "Don't expect me to wait on you hand and foot when we get back to Los Angeles."

"No, no, of course not, Mrs. Steele," he replied, his voice oily with appeasement, cracking open his napkin and smoothing it over his lap. He added casually, never meeting Laura's eyes, hers scrutinizing him suspiciously, "There's only one area of our home I'll be expecting you to provide any type of service." Laura snapped her hand up to stop him from saying another word, her lips pinched together tightly. Remington shook his head, saying, "Tsk, tsk Laura. Why must you always assume I am referring to something salacious?"

Laura looked at him in disbelief, "Well, it's not like we've never been down that road before..."

"I was merely referring to the services you would provide in our office. We will need an office at our home." His eyes finally met with Laura's, the twinkle in them betraying his perennial mischief.

Now it was Laura's turn to shake her head, but Remington could see her struggle as she tried to keep herself from smiling and blushing.

They turned their attention to eating, suddenly ravenous and, after a few hearty mouthfuls, Laura said, "Speaking of home, we haven't talked about that yet. We need to make a decision about where we're going to reside. The INS is going to be examining everything we do, I'm sure," she replied between bites. The thought of dealing with the INS back in Los Angeles turned her stomach sour. She stopped eating and began pushing the food around the dish.

Remington covered her right hand with his left and squeezed it gently. "Don't let thoughts of the INS ruin our time here. Remember in just over ten days the INS will have no recourse. We will be married. Truly and irrevocably married. And your family will be here to witness it, so stop worrying," he reminded her gently.

Laura turned her hand in his and squeezed his fingers. On an impulse, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Remington, taken aback for only a moment, raised his free hand, his long fingers curling around her nape as his thumb traveled, imperceptibly to all but Laura, back and forth across the ridge of her cheekbone.

The kiss ended with a succulent smack, Laura pulling away quickly when they heard someone clearing their throat nearby. She looked down at her dish, a blush warming her cheeks and heard Remington say, "Paddy, come join us. Mrs. Steele and I were just discussing adding a home office to our living arrangements when we return to Los Angeles." Laura lifted her head, smoothing her sweater and Remington licked the taste of strawberries and maple syrup from his mouth, swiping his lower lip lightly with his fingers. Their eyes met very briefly with a furtive glance just before they turned their attention fully on Paddy, who was just explaining his predicament.

"...lost my seat beside my wife to one of the wee ones, Connall..." he said, pointing towards a rosy-cheeked toddler across the room, his chubby legs swinging gleefully from the edge of his seat. "Precocious little feller... he's barely learned to walk and now he's insisting on sitting up in a chair all by himself. So, if you're sure I'm not intruding," Paddy stated tentatively.

Laura smiled delightedly at the little cherub and Remington stood, reaching for a chair from another table, "No, no, let's pull up a chair. Actually, since you're here, how are the barn and the paddock coming along? Made any progress?" Remington placed the chair at their table and gestured for him to sit.

Paddy grinned and sat down, arranging his dish. He took one bite and hummed as the flavors swirled on his palate. He swallowed a sip of tea before he replied, "The barn is all set, Pace did a good job clearing it out despite his injuries. The interior paddock is secure, we've been working on the outside fences. We should be finished within a few days."

"Well done. I was under the impression it would take much longer to make all the necessary repairs," Remington nodded as he took a large bite of grilled ham with pineapple.

Paddy laughed loudly and said, "You haven't worked with the O'Malley's before. Christian may be young, but he has the work ethic of a man twice his age."

Remington sat back with his lanky legs crossed, laying his folded napkin on the table, saying, "Then it sounds like we have found the right man for the job."

At that moment Remington felt someone appear at his elbow, feet shuffling nervously. He looked up and asked, "Yes, Mickeline, is everything alright? You look like a deer in headlights!"

"Pardon me for interrupting your brunch, my lord, and I wouldn't have intruded unless it was important..."

Remington's patience was wearing thin, "Well, out with it, my good fellow!"

Mickeline stood tall at the order and announced, "My Lord, there is a delivery of sorts that requires your immediate attention!"


	16. Unexpected Deliveries

"A delivery? What kind of delivery? Mickeline, what's going on? You seem a bit nervous there, Mate," Remington questioned. He had followed Mickeline to the other end of the room where he now stood waiting for an explanation as Mickeline rung his hands nervously.

"Well, sir, there are trailers outside. And they are filled with horses!" Mickeline exclaimed.

Remington raised an eyebrow at his statement. "Horses?" He didn't see Laura join them until he heard her ask as well, "What do you mean, horses?"

"There's a bevy of horses waiting to be unloaded, your Lordship, Mrs. Steele," Mickeline informed them, a look of total bewilderment and shock painted across his face.

"Of course! Monroe! Mrs. Steele, our wedding gift from Monroe!" Remington exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of Paddy and Christian. Making eye contact with the pair, he waved them over to join them. "Christian, I know this isn't exactly the best timing, but it appears we will need your expertise. Our horses have arrived," he explained.

Christian nodded enthusiastically, then turned to the group milling around and announced, "All hands, on deck! We have horses to unload for Remington!" Without an explanation, most of the younger cousins began moving toward the doors to follow Christian outside. The adults gathered up the children and followed, much to Remington and Laura's surprise. They looked at each other with the same shocked expression then, linking their arms in Mickeline's, followed the group outside and down the driveway to the stables and the awaiting horse trailers.

Christian immediately took charge, explaining to the drivers how they would unload the horses and lead them into the smaller paddock. Each horse was wearing a leather halter and situated in a single padded stall in the four trailers that were now parked in a line along the driveway along with two pickup trucks filled with hay and horse feed. The capable adult men began unloading the feed buckets and stacking everything in the barn while most of the women took the children into a nearby field to allow them to play. A ball appeared, and a friendly game of soccer began under the direction of Zach and John who were unable to help unload the trucks.

Christian disappeared into the barn and returned a few minutes later carrying leather reins and rope leads to clip onto the halters. He handed the straps out to many of the older cousins and motioned toward the trucks to start unloading. He barked out orders, taking command with all eyes on him. Slowly, the horses emerged from each trailer. They were large, magnificent beasts, many standing fifteen to sixteen hands high at the shoulder, much taller than Laura.

Remington and Laura stood and watched what appeared to be chaos but soon realized it was an orchestrated process. As each horse was unloaded, it was passed off to one of the cousins to lead into the paddock to run free and get settled. Paddy's wife, Kate, along with their oldest daughter, Allison, was filling the water troughs while Paddy himself led the group unloading the feed and hay.

From one trailer, Remington heard a loud ruckus. An agitated young colt was being led, with minimal success, down the ramp. His eyes were darting from side to side, his nostrils flaring as he snorted nervously. Just as he cleared the ramp, a loud sound from inside the trailer startled him. He reared up onto his back legs and jumped to the side before rearing up again. The driver holding the reins was clearly nervous and unfamiliar with how to handle the animal. The lead easily slipped out of his hands and the animal shot forward in a full gallop down the dirt driveway. On instinct, Remington had begun to run after the animal, only to be passed by a slim figure riding bareback. For a moment he thought it was Laura, but then heard her voice behind him. "Rem! Wait!" she called after him, having taken up the chase at top speed. Remington focused on the problem ahead of him, quickly realized he needed to change tactics, so doubled back towards the other horses and took the reins of a large mare and swung up onto the beast's back. Meanwhile, Laura had almost run into him when he abruptly changed direction, and now stood, her arms flapping in utter confusion as she looked forward and back not knowing which way to go next, "Where are you going now?!" As soon as she saw him mount the mare bareback, her hands flew to her head and she cried, "Oh no you don't!" But Remington dug his heels into his mount's sides and gripped her ribs tightly with his thighs as he leaned forward and took off at a gallop.

With the wind whistling in his ears, Remington could just make out two swift-moving forms up ahead, the runaway colt and the unknown rider in hot pursuit, who, by now, was alongside the colt. A small hand darted out, attempting to grasp the dangling lead line. Having succeeded after several attempts, the pair slowed significantly and, as he approached, Remington heard a girl's voice call out, "Woah…. Woah!" The colt reared up again, and Remington's surprise at seeing that the mystery rider was a young lady, not much bigger than Laura, barely registered in the chaos. The girl seized the moment of unrest to slip from her steed, a mass of unruly jet-black hair swooping down behind her. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she reached up to calm the skittish horse, speaking softly, rubbing his forehead and muzzle to settle him. Remington came to a stop several paces back, slid off the mare and walked slowly to where the girl stood, her back to him. He cleared his throat to announce his presence, but she didn't acknowledge him and continued to croon and whisper to the colt.

Remington remained still, not wanting to spook the animal anew, until, at length, he heard her speak. "He's scared. His heart is still racing," the girl stated, her voice barely a whisper as she continued to stroke the young horse's downy muzzle. Remington moved closer. He reached out to touch the colt's neck, but the animal sidestepped away. The girl moved with him, still gently patting him as she comforted him. "Move closer, but slowly," she instructed Remington. He narrowed his eyes at her first, then followed her directions. He raised his hand to touch the colt again, but she stopped him, "Wait. Let him come to you." Remington didn't move as she coaxed the horse toward him, "He's okay, he's not going to hurt you," she soothed him. Slowly, the colt stepped closer to Remington's raised hand, his eyes partially closed as he dropped his head forward against the girl's shoulder. "Go ahead, he'll let you touch him now," she said as she rubbed her cheek against his nose. Remington stroked his neck lightly, the muscles underneath tense. With a long sweeping motion, he continued and felt the animal's muscles begin to relax.

"That's impressive," Remington stated quietly, his blue eyes watching her intently. He had yet to see her face, as it was hidden behind her hair and the horse.

"I understand them. The horses, I mean," she said as she continued to pat the colt.

"What's your name?" Remington asked lightly, curious who she was. He didn't remember seeing her with the rest of the family.

The girl turned to face him, her blue eyes the very same shade as his own, "Alex. Alexandra. I'm Mara's granddaughter."

"Mara's…" Remington began but stopped when her words sunk in. He pursed his lips for a brief moment then stopped. He wanted to be angry with Mara but knew Alexandra had no control over her grandmother's behaviors thirty odd years ago. "That was some impressive riding. Where did you learn that?"

Alex smiled at him, her features so familiar with the asymmetrical grin, dark, expressive eyebrows, "I've been working with horses since I could walk. My Da and Mum own a small horse farm not too far from here. Our horses are bred mostly for farming, but we've had a few over the years like this fellow here. A wild heart that needs a special hand and lots of patience. Most of the time they are simply misunderstood but once you get to know them, they are faithful."

"Do you think we can get him to follow us back?" Remington asked as he glanced up the dirt road toward the castle.

"I think he'll come if we go slow. You may need a vet to check his ears. He seems sensitive to touch and the sound scared him quite a bit," she explained. She stepped toward the stallion she had ridden and picked up the dangling reins. "I don't think this guy has been saddled before so if we can walk back, he should follow the lead. The others will come, no doubt."

Remington took the reins of the mare he rode and the reins of the stallion, so she could focus on just the colt. "Alexandra?" he asked.

"Alex, please. I'm only Alexandra when I'm in trouble," she giggled as they walked.

Remington smiled and asked, "Alex, how is it you're here? I mean, my understanding is that Mara's not well liked by the rest of the family." He was curious and wanted information but didn't want to press too much.

"My Mum and Mara do not get along. She was fifteen when you were born and saw what her mother did. From the stories Mum has told us over the years, she was angry with Mara for a long time. Mum even tried looking for… oh bugger, I forget his name… your father. Or at least the man she believed to be your father. She saw him once when he came to the house when Mara gave him some paper and told him to leave," she explained as she continued to coax the colt along.

"Daniel. Daniel Chalmers," Remington filled in the name she forgot.

"That's it. Anyway, Mum wanted to find him, to tell him the truth of what happened but she never did. So, when Paddy told her you were here, well, how could we miss it. She and Paddy are two peas in a pod. They were always together as kids. She'd be here today but she wasn't feeling well. Said her stomach was giving her troubles but I think she was nervous," Alex stated.

Remington rubbed his chin with the back of his hand as he held the reins tightly. He glanced up the road once more, seeing a huddle of his relatives and Laura, her arms wrapped about her middle, looking anxiously in his direction.

He looked down at the path in front of his feet before asking. "Do you see Mara? I mean, do you spend any time with her?"

Alexandra stopped walking and kicked the dirt with her toe. She looked at him, her blue eyes wide as she replied, "Only when I have to. I know that must sound wrong, I mean she is my Grandmum and all, but… I don't know, she's always had another agenda. She always looking to turn things to her advantage."

Remington nodded, his eyes still on the grassy gravel, "I'm familiar with the type..." Remington replied cryptically and drew in a breath, looking down the lane again, a pained look in his eyes.

Alexandra ventured a glance at him and added hastily, "...but Mara, she's cold. Careless with people's feelings. She schemes without regard for who may stand in her way. Anyone might end up her doormat."

Remington focused again on Laura in the distance, where she stood, shivering in her thin heels. Suddenly a smile teased the corner of his mouth and he thought to himself,  _...city girl indeed..._ Alexandra followed his gaze and, seeing where his eyes lay, said, "Your wife, I like her. She's kind, but looks like she has some fire in her."

Remington laughed loudly and shook his head as he replied, "That's an accurate description for Laura. A rare mix with skills and attributes to suit any occasion...", then amusedly pointing at her with his eyes, added, "...though apparently not horse-handling..."

They both laughed with their crooked smiles, and Alex said, "I rather think that right now, she's worried about her husband recklessly taking off bareback on a horse..."

Remington looked at Alexandra with amused surprise, "Indeed! I think you and her will have a lot in common!" They neared the group and Laura rushed forward, throwing her arms around his neck when she reached him.

"Are you okay? What were you thinking!" she asked as she released him and pinned her knuckles to her fist.

Remington smiled at her reaction and nodded. "I'm fine. Miss Alexandra here saved the day and tamed our renegade colt, I guess you could say," he smiled at his young cousin.

Alex blushed and dropped her eyes as she muttered, "I didn't do much."

"I beg to differ-" Remington began but he was cut off when he heard Mickeline yelling.

"Christian! Christian, an emergency call, for you," he yelled as he tried to jog to the group.

Remington handed Alex the reins of the horses he had been leading and ran over to meet Mickeline. "What's wrong?" he asked, his face full of concern. Christian and Paddy walked briskly to where they stood as Mickeline tried to catch his breath.

"A phone call…" he panted, "Pace… you need to take Sarah…. to the hospital… her water broke," Mickeline managed to get out.

Christian looked at him blankly for just a second when the weight of his words sunk in. "The baby! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! If I don't get her to the hospital, there will be no one to deliver the baby!" he exclaimed. He looked at his father who simply nodded and said, "Go, we'll finish up here." Without another word, Christian broke into a full run to the parking area and soon after, they heard the screech of the tires as Christian sped off down the long driveway to the street.

As Mickeline's breathing finally abated, he looked at Remington and shook his head in disbelief, saying, "Your Lordship, are there any other unexpected deliveries I should know about?"


	17. Unveiled Words

As Mickeline hastened back to the castle, muttering to himself all the while about American Lords and Ladies and the circuses that accompany them, Remington looked at Paddy and then at Laura, the expression in his eyes akin to that of a lost puppy. With Christian gone to play stork to the expectant parents, Pace and Sarah, he wasn't sure who should be in charge. Paddy caught his forlorn expression and, without hesitation, turned to the group behind them, barking out orders as he made his way to the barn, Remington following in his wake, while Laura leaned against the edge of the smaller paddock and watched the children playing soccer in the field across the road. "Oh!" Laura cried out and jumped slightly when she felt someone nudge her arm and turned to find a cream-colored filly nuzzling her shoulder. "Well, hello there!" Laura said, and the horse whinnied with a shake of her mane.

Laura drew her hand down the bridge of the horse's nose, then, reached down to pick a clump of grass for her new friend. The horse gratefully drew the grass into her mouth, the soft skin rippling as she sniffed and chewed. Laura stroked her soft muzzle and stooped to pick some more grass which was devoured in short order. Laura wrapped her arm under and up around the horse's head, stroking her cheek, and turned back towards the field where the children played, their laughter and little voices drawing her attention. One of the younger children of the bunch, two-year-old Ryan, was toddling after the older children, attempting to kick the ball when it neared him. Paddy stopped long enough to call out, "Acushla, be careful. The kids are bigger than you!"

Remington turned at the endearment he used for the toddler and his gaze flickered toward Laura for a brief moment and caught her eyes just as she looked away, blanking her face of all emotion except for a touch of color on her cheeks. A slight grin turned up one corner of his mouth as he and Paddy lead the last two horses into the corral. When the task was completed he turned to survey their handy work. Glancing over his shoulder he watched Laura, watching the children and patting the horse absentmindedly. He was gratified that she had seemed to have formed a bond with one of the horses. Seeing her relaxed, simply enjoying the moment inspired within him a warm feeling of incandescent happiness.

The trucks and trailers pulled away one by one, everything having been unloaded and packed away, and the horses secured and wandering around their new home. In total, Monroe had gifted the Castle with eighteen horses and colts. The animals were beautiful, in a myriad of shades of black, brown, cream and white.

Paddy patted Remington on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow him into the stables. Paddy walked to the far end to ensure they could have a conversation privately. "Remington, I know today must be a bit overwhelming, with the family and all. And I know you're not used to all of us and our ways, but you are family, you always have been. Please, lean on us as you need to. We are here to support you, just as we had wanted to all those years ago. Fate was not kind to you; Mother's health failed, Anne drowned and, Zach, also, became too ill to care for you. Had we been spared any of those misfortunes, you would have been among us all those years. But now, we have a chance to offer that support, as if you had never been separated from us..."

"Paddy, look. I hold no grudges. I've just… I've spent most of my life practically alone, until the last few years when I met Laura," Remington explained as he worried his thumbnail.

Paddy looked around the barn once more before he said, "I just need you to know, family is family. I know there's a lot we don't know about you and vice versa but it doesn't matter. You're home, where you should be."

Remington nodded, his lips pursed together. He wasn't sure how to explain to Paddy he and Laura wouldn't be staying in Ireland, but he decided this wasn't going to be the time. He extended his hand and when Paddy shook it he replied, "It's just the beginning, Paddy, it's just the beginning."

"Mr. Steele?" Laura's voice wafted toward the men from the other end of the stable.

"In here, Mrs. Steele," he replied with a smile. His head turned as her footsteps echoed in the barn on the wooden floor. He reached out to slip his arm around her waist when she was close enough.

"Everyone is looking for you," Laura stated, settling into the curve of his arm. "I think the children are getting restless."

Paddy nodded, "We should probably get them home. I'll be back later with Alexandra settle the horses for the night."

Laura raised an eyebrow, "Alexandra?" she asked. "Which one was she?"

"Ah, the young lass that tamed our stray colt," Remington explained. "She's Mara's granddaughter."

"Mara's grand…" Laura's voice trailed off as she realized the importance of his words.

"Mara is a pariah amongst the family, Mrs. Steele, but her oldest daughter is Alexandra's mother, my cousin. She and I have been close, ever since she moved out at seventeen to get away from Mara. Alexandra is like one of my own. Sweet girl, and talented with horses," Paddy said, and taking his leave, added, "I'll go check in with her now and round up kids."

"How are you feeling?" Laura asked as she ran her hand lovingly down his chest.

Remington leaned against a stable door, pulling Laura with him, his hands around her waist, positioning her between his legs. He took her hands in his, brought them to his lips and said, "Thank you, Laura."

"For what? I didn't do anything." Laura said lightly with a smile and question her eyes.

"For being here with me. I suspect I would never have found a reason to seek out my past had it not been for you." Remington pulled her into his arms, wrapping his hands around her waist and tucking his chin on her shoulder as he squeezed her. "Laura, Laura, Laura," he whispered, "When I was in London after dealing with Daniel's little surprise, I couldn't get back to you fast enough. I'm finding your arms are the only place I want to be lately. And to think you thought I might not return..." He turned his head into her neck and breathed in deeply, his lips grazing the area below her ear.

Laura felt her skin rush with color, but she merely shrugged and said, "Well, I would have managed. You know me. I can take care of myself."

"That's not the point Laura." Remington punctuated his words with firm squeezes at her waist where he held her. "I want, and I intend to stay by your side for...well, forever." Laura's breath caught in her lungs as a tremor rippled through her at his declaration. Remington leaned back to look at her face, "Laura?"

Laura kept her eyes downcast, unused to losing her composure to her emotions. Finally, she looked up and Remington noted the sheen of her eyes, like pearly seashells having just been kissed by a gentle surf. "I guess I'll never get used to hearing that," Laura said breathlessly, a shy smile unveiled.

"I hope not," replied Remington, her discomposure touching him deeply. "Otherwise I will be deprived of feeling you tremble in my arms or seeing roses bloom on your cheeks."

Laura groaned and looked away, "Ugh. That makes me sound like "the little woman"."

Remington smiled, shaking his head slightly. Brushing aside a runaway wisp and tucking it behind her ear, he surveyed her face with fond affection, "Never!"

Brown eyes met blue and Laura lay her head on Remington's chest, relaxing into his embrace.

After a few moments, Remington said, "Well, shall we bid our guests adieu, Mrs. Steele?"

They left the barn and, hand in hand stepped into the late afternoon sunshine where the families gathered, most of the children having been collected by their parents. Remington had struck up a conversation with a couple of his cousins and Laura wandered over to the field, where it seemed that little Piper was in the midst of a temper tantrum. Laura approached her mother and father and asked, "Is everything okay?"

"She's having too much fun collecting flowers in the field and does not want to leave," said her mother, Jennifer.

Laura had an idea and asked, "I may be able to convince her. May I?"

"By all means!" exclaimed her father, Timothy. "But beware, she can be quite stubborn when she wants."

"Piper, come see me!" Laura called to the child. Piper walked slowly across the field, her bottom lip quivering and her chest rose and fell sharply every few seconds. Laura ducked under the cross beam of the fence and crouched down as she waited for her. When Piper finally reached her, Laura could see her tear-streaked cheeks and her still-quivering lip.

"Why the tears, Piper? Didn't you have fun at the Castle today?" Laura asked sweetly.

"I wanted to play more. To pick more flowers for Mum. She loves the yellow ones and we don't have many near our house," Piper tried to explain as she held a small bundle of wild daisies tightly in her fist.

Laura lifted her little hands, so she could see the flowers better and declared, "I know of a whole field of these on the Castle grounds. I'll tell you what. If you can be a good girl and do as your Mum and Da ask now, you can come back, and we'll make a big bouquet just for your Mum. I'm sure I can even find a basket to carry them in. Would you like that?"

Piper looked up, her blue eyes sparkling with both tears and excitement. "You mean I can… I can… I can come back to the Castle again?" she stuttered.

"Of course! You are always welcome at Ashford Castle. You know why? Because Remington is part of your family. And families get to visit each other whenever they can."

Laura straightened, offering her hand to Piper and they walked towards her parents. Timothy and Jennifer had started walking toward them and when Piper saw them, she ran to her mother and held out the flowers. "Laura said I can come back and get more if I'm a good girl," she exclaimed. "Can we come back another day, Mum? Please, Da?"

Jennifer lifted Piper and, as the small party walked towards the rest of the families and Remington, she answered, "Well, if Laura says you can come back, it's fine with me, as long as we're not intruding."

"Intruding? Here? No!" Laura laughed. "Besides that, I'm sure Remington would love to visit everyone again before we have to leave to go back home to Los Angeles."

Remington turned when he saw Laura approaching and, having overheard the tail end of their conversation, chimed in, "And I have just the perfect event in mind."


	18. Monroe

Once the last of the family had departed, and the sun dipped low on the horizon, Remington and Laura walked the perimeter of the paddock once more, marveling at the rambunctious harras of horses Monroe had gifted both them and Ashford Castle. Some of the horses peacefully grazed, swatting their tails occasionally, while others jostled for superiority, butting their noses and dodging one another. Two or three others cantered friskily around the paddock. Among those, the wild colt Remington had encountered earlier that day. Laura stopped to admire their frolicking silhouettes, outlined with golden fringes by the late day sun, when out of the radiant light emerged the cream-colored filly that she had befriended that afternoon. The pretty horse came straight to her, nuzzling as she had before, and Laura obliged her with more clumps of grass.

Remington had been quiet during their perusal of the horses, introspective of the day's events, but now he spoke, "It appears that you have made a fast friend, Laura." He made some kissing sounds with his mouth, beckoning the horse, and held out his hand for her to smell, but she seemed uninterested and kept her attention on Laura. Remington harrumphed and quipped morosely, "I suppose my reputation hasn't reached this far North yet."

Laura giggled, a mocking snicker emanating from the back of her throat, "You're being ridiculous! How do you account for her taking a shining to me, then?" she teased, eliciting a petulant frown from Remington. With a pale smile lingering, Laura continued to stroke the cream-colored pony, wishing she could draw him out of his moodiness. She stooped, saying, "Here. Try feeding her…", and tore some grass from the soil and handed it to Remington. He jumped back and scowled at her when a bit of the dirt flung at him from the roots of the grass, though he accepted it all the same. Laura continued to smirk, shaking her head slightly and said, "What's gotten into you, anyway?" Remington did not answer, but instead, begrudgingly offered the horse the grass, who in turn, unabashedly leaned towards him and accepted the offering. Slowly, a smile crept over Remington's face and he reached out to pet her. "I suppose you're not totally impossible..." she whinnied and shook her mane, nudging him for more. Laura smiled and smoothed the friendly filly's long neck, while Remington submitted to her demands for more grass.

"I'm going to call her Parlay," Laura said.

Remington looked at her, surprised, then chuckled and said, "It all boils down to chocolate for you, doesn't it, Laura?"

Laura gave him a playful swat, and proceeded to enlighten him about her favorite candy, "They're only chocolate on the outside. Inside is a creamy nougat, and this girl brings that to mind", she explained, ruffling the horse's bangs. "She has such a sweet nature and has that same cream coloring."

When Parlay decided she'd had enough, she trotted away shaking her mane all the while.

Remington remained quiet for a few moments, leaning up on the fence, watching the horses.

Finally, Laura said, "What's going on in that head of yours, Mr. Steele?"

Without moving, Remington took a deep breath. "Just thinking about the future, Mrs. Steele," he murmured with no further clues.

Deciding the day had been sufficiently fraught with emotion, Laura tried to lighten the mood, "Does the immediate future include dinner by any chance?"

Remington turned his head and focused on her, the hint of a grin teasing the corner of his mouth. "Well, we can't have you slipping away to nothing," he replied, offering his arm, through which Laura slipped her hand.

"I hope Sarah and the baby are okay," Laura said, her mind shifting gears quickly, as they took up a leisurely pace back towards the Castle. "We haven't heard anything since Christian was called away."

"I'll all but guarantee that she's fine. Strong lass, that one.", Remington assured her.

"But she wasn't expecting the baby so soon. Sarah said yesterday she still had six more weeks to go," Laura replied as she concentrated on the path before her, trying to hide her anxiety.

Remington gave Laura a sidelong glance. He could tell she was worried by the simple fact that she wouldn't look at him. Reaching over, he patted her hand that was nestled in the crook of his elbow and offered, "What would you say to calling over at the hospital and checking in on them ourselves?"

Laura brightened and looked up at Remington with a smile, her relief robbing her of words, and nodded gratefully. He nodded back, leveling his sights on the castle up ahead and said, "I'll talk to Mickeline and see about making the arrangements. He must know where she went to have the baby."

Laura, having collected herself, found her voice and, smiling, replied, "Oh, thank you, Rem. I've grown… I don't know… attached to Sarah. I don't know what it is."

Remington clasped her hand and freed his arm to hug her to him in an affectionate squeeze and, pressing his head to hers, said, "I think you see a bit of yourself in her. Strong on the outside, but just a bit vulnerable on the inside. Not much, just a bit."

"I am NOT-" Laura started adamantly, pulling her head back to object, but Remington cut her off with a simple smile and an "Eh?" Laura laughed in response, knowing deep down that he was right. They walked a few more steps, the first of the cool evening breezes chilling their cheeks, before Remington's stomach growled loudly. Laura giggled and said, "Well, Mr. Steele, how do you suggest we go about finding dinner?"

As slight titter escaped Remington's lips in his discomfiture as he patted his stomach and he replied, "Yes, well...The evening is ours to do with what we please, Mrs. Steele. Perhaps a jaunt into the village to sample the local fare? I know of two pubs. One, I visited with Mickeline the other day, to size up the band for our wedding, and the other, I only saw in a fleeting blur..."

He suddenly looked very guilty and pretended he could not feel Laura's quizzical eyes on him. They had arrived at the front doors of the castle and Laura stopped and looked at him expectantly. When he was not forthcoming, kicking some pebbles with the toe of his shoe and averting his eyes, Laura crossed her arms and said, "Care to elaborate, ?"

"It was nothing Laura. Just a couple of high spirited lads sorting out their differences..." Laura narrowed her eyes at Remington, cocking her head towards him and replied, "Am I finally going to hear how you got that split lip?...the one you tried to hide from me back when you and Tony were having a chummy drink together in the Drawing Room?" Remington looked at Laura, mildly surprised, "Caught that, did you?" He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and, looking down the bridge of his nose at Laura, conceded, "I suppose there's no harm in telling you... now that I 'got the girl', so to speak..."

"Got the gi...?!" Laura narrowed her eyes, placed her hands on her hips and cried indignantly, "I'm no one's prize, buster!"

"Merely a figure of speech, Laura..." He said dismissively and turned, opening the door for Laura to precede him, and added smoothly, "...but, on second thought, best not to discuss these things on an empty stomach. Would you be averse to moving things along and going in search of sustenance?" As if on cue, Remington's stomach emitted a low growl and Laura's clenched sympathetically. She had to admit that she was hungry too, and at the moment, that trumped everything.

Inside Remington suggested that Laura collect keys to one of the vehicles while he retrieved his wallet from their room. They met in the hall outside Mickeline's office where, once again, he was on the phone with Mildred. Remington and Laura exchanged knowing glances before waving to him on their way out. As they climbed into the car, Laura announced, "Mickeline called the hospital. They wouldn't tell him too much, just that Sarah is still in labor."

They drove to the pub silently, Laura staring out of the window, although her fingers remained entwined with Remington's. They decided on simple pub fair - coddle made with bacon, pork sausages, potatoes and onions stewed in aroma filled layers and boxty - a crispy potato pancake filled with chopped meat and covered with a savory sauce. They ate heartily, huddled together on the wall side of a table that was comfortably removed, but nevertheless offered a good view of the goings on in the boisterous pub. Laura was amused by the rousing chorus the patrons sang, gathered around the bar, and laughed when Remington stood and attempted to penetrate the mass of revelers to pay the man behind the bar.

One of the men noticed him and yelled for all to hear, "It's the boyo who was brawling with that Russian bear a few days ago!" And soon the other men were patting him on the back and telling him he was a loyal son of Erin and wouldn't he join them for a pint. Remington managed to quiet them down enough to be able to speak, "No, thank you, gentlemen. My new bride and myself have been apart for several days and we ..." and before he could finish his sentence, the men raised their pints, cheering for the happy couple, and changed their tune and broke into an Irish love song, fairly ejecting Remington from the crowd with a few stout slaps on the back, Laura all the while blushing profusely, sinking as far back into the shadows as possible.

With their moods lifted, their bellies filled, and a few kisses were stolen to boot, Remington navigated the dark misty roads of the countryside with ease and returned he and Laura to Ashford Castle in enough time to be able to take care of a couple of things. Remington had hoped to call Monroe to thank him for the magnificent gift of the horses.

"Laura, I'm going to make that call to Monroe in the study, if you would care to return the keys to Terrence and meet me there afterward."

They had both just turned away from each other when Remington had another thought and called to Laura, "Oh, and see about finding a bottle of wine and some glasses...I thought we could both use a bit of respite after a long day..."

By the time Remington had settled himself into the study to make the phone call, with Monroe's number in hand and even having stopped in to request Mickeline to arrange a small fire in the master bed chamber's hearth, Laura had joined him. She took a seat and curled up on the highbacked chair facing him as he lifted the phone and dialed. There was a pause while he listened to the ringing on the other end, then finally, he joyfully exclaimed, "Monroe, my friend, you have outdone yourself this time!"

"Ah, Mick, I take it the team arrived safely!" Monroe replied.

"They are superb, the lot of them. One, in particular, has caught my attention. I may ask you to evaluate him while you are here. Perhaps you will see in him what I saw."

"Same old Mick, always looking for an opportunity to maximize an investment. Well, my perspicacious friend, I know exactly of which steed you speak, and I have already made some preliminary inquiries on your behalf."

"Uh huh..." Remington dragged out, feigning suspicion, "And when were you planning on informing me?"

Monroe gave a hearty laugh. "Trust me, Mick. I had every intention of bringing it up with you upon my arrival at your Castle."

Remington joined in with a heartfelt laugh of his own and exclaimed, "You are far too generous, Monroe, old friend!"

"It's the least I could do, Mick, seeing as you have your hands full at this particular time. But you can make it up to me by cooking up some of your marvelous Ragoût de Cochon for me while I am there. No one but you can make it quite like my mother used too when I was a 'ti pitit' growing up in the islands."

Remington's eyebrows furrowed slightly, "...Monroe... it was you who taught me the recipe...'picked it up from the stevedores on the screw dock in Barbados', you said..."

"Ah, but Mick, with your 'je ne sais quoi' sleight of hand that elevates any dish you undertake, it may as well have been made by my mother, if ever I knew her..."

Remington shook his head, emitting a slight chuckle, "Very well, my friend. And I'll do you one better. I'll prepare your  _Mother's_  ragout and throw in some 'beignets bananas'." And with a smirk aimed at Laura, who had been yawning and blinking heavily across the room, he added, "... dipped in CHOCOLATE ganache..." just as her eyes drifted closed. They flew open at that, and when she saw that he was teasing her, she glared at him before resting her back against the side of the wingback chair she had occupied. Remington chuckled and on the other end of the line, Monroe said, "I take it, your enchanting bride is with you now. How did she take to the horses?"

"Yes, Monroe, she is here... I think it's safe to say she is delighted with the horses. She's taken to naming them already..." Laura kept her eyes closed. "But at the moment, she is not terribly happy with me," he added with a smirk, as Laura opened one eye and poked her tongue out at him.

"Well, that won't do, Mick, my friend. I am counting on you to keep her in good humor for when I break the news to her about the security contracts over which we have been deliberating."

Remington's face fell, and he was speechless. When Laura opened her eyes, having noticed the pause, he smiled uncomfortably and, covering the mouthpiece of the phone, called over to her, "Laura, I have some arrangements concerning the gentlemen's activities prior to our wedding to discuss with Monroe. Why don't you bring the wine up to our room and get settled? I'll be up in just a minute."

Laura stretched her legs before standing. Picking up the wine bottle and glasses, she walked over to Remington and leaned over the desk to kiss him lightly on the lips and whispered, "Don't be long."

He watched her saunter slowly out of the room, closing the door behind her, and when he no longer heard the echo of her footsteps in the hall, he turned back to the phone and inquired, his tone serious, and his words pointed, "What's wrong with the security contract, Monroe?"

Monroe chuckled and said, "I had you going there, didn't I, Mick? Someone has to keep you in check after all. I am sure your Laura is far too much of a lady to put you in your place."

"Oh ho! You wouldn't say that if you knew her as well as I do, Monroe!" Remington challenged, relief permeating his tone. His heart had dropped at Monroe's goading. Laura was counting on their previous legwork, along with Mildred and Monroe's follow-through, to wrap up their latest security contract, and it wouldn't do to have her become distracted with the wedding just over a week away.

Monroe again laughed heartily at Remington's retort. "Sounds to me like you're getting the better end of the deal, my friend! And as far as the contracts are concerned, all is in order, and I look forward to giving you both a full debriefing whenever is convenient."

"Very well. That sounds promising. When can we expect you?"

"Monday, the ninth. Should be landing near two o'clock your time and, barring any issues with the rental car, we shall arrive by dinner time."

"Fine, fine! Safe travels, my friend!" Remington remarked.

"Until Monday, Mick," Monroe bade his farewell in his own way with Remington acknowledging, "Monday."

Remington hung up the phone and quickly made his way to the bedchamber where he found Laura, her back to him, tugging a cotton nightgown over her head, its hem falling down around her ankles. The room was aglow with a fire crackling cheerfully, it's playful light twinkling in the wine bottle and glasses on the hearth ahead of it. She turned, and they smiled before gathering some throw pillows to place in front of the fire while Remington himself changed and disappeared in the bathroom for his evening toilette. When he emerged, Laura was pouring the wine and settled back with her glass in hand against the pillows to wait for him.

Remington settled down beside Laura, accepting the glass she offered him.

Remington paused for a moment, his gaze lost in the hidden kingdoms amongst the fire and embers, his wine glass suspended in midair, while Laura looked on expectantly.

"So, Mr. Steele..." she said lightly, inclining her head to try to catch his eye.

Remington looked at her with a half-smile and raised his glass towards her in a toast, "To you, Laura."

"Me? I can't toast myself..."

"Then I will." and he raised his glass anew and looked deep into Laura's eyes, "To you, Love." And immediately to a took a healthy mouthful of the wine.

Laura blushed slightly, but nevertheless said, with lifted glass, "And I would like to raise a toast to your family." Remington hesitated a moment but clinked and repeated, "To my family."

They both drank and were quiet for a spell letting the bickering sparks carry the conversation. After several long moments, Remington began quietly, "All those years hiding out in dark back alley stoops, stealing and scrounging to stave off the cold and hunger...and all that time, I had people who I belonged to, who had my blood...It boggles the mind."

"Don't look back, Rem. Never look back."

Rem's eyes flickered to Laura, the corner of his mouth creasing in a roguish grin, "Love Me Or Leave Me. Doris Day. James Cagney. MGM. 1955."

Laura rolled her eyes and mildly scolded Remington, "This is hardly the time to be quoting old movies..."

"I picked that movie out for you, Laura. I thought you'd like all those song and dance num..."

"And I'm trying to have a conversation about your family….", her voice trailed off and she asked softly, "You did?"

"Well, there was some action too, so it was really the perfect movie for the both of us. Too bad Bing had to show up and spoil what might have been a night to remember, perhaps even changed the course of the last few weeks…."

Laura looked at him with compassion and reached out to smooth back his stray lock, "Rem, do I need to say it again? Never look back."

"Not looking back so much as relieved that things unfolded in the order that they have. I would have rejected anyone approaching me with all this previously. Daniel was right to not tell me for all those years. I was so full of turmoil and frustration, I probably would have lashed out and run."

"I'm fairly certain you would have come around on your own," Laura assured him.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not on my own." Remington placed his glass on the hearth along with Laura's and reclined on his side facing the fire and Laura did likewise, lying along his length in front of him, propping her head up with both of her hands.

Her face in close proximity to his, Laura looked at the firelight playing on Remington's face as he spoke thoughtfully, scanning her face, "I haven't said it enough, but, having you by my side … that is to say...aside from the obvious perks...has opened my eyes to the need to belong...and now, with a whole slew of relatives...well, the possibilities really are endless. I feel... fulfilled, somehow. The feeling is not nearly what I expected."

"What did you expect, fireworks?"

Remington snuck his hands around Laura's waist and pulled her close, his eyes traveling her face. "There is only one person with whom I experience fireworks. And that is my beautiful bride-to-be."

"Bride-to-be? Earlier I was your bride. What about the Tuna Boat Wedding?"

"Never happened. From this moment forward you are my fiancee. I never got to enjoy that last time. It will be most amusing sneaking around your Mother's back prior to the wedding. We'll have to get creative." He concluded wiggling his eyebrows and leaning closer and closer to Laura.

They both smiled into the kiss they shared and, once again, all that could be heard for a long while was the cracking and fizzing of the playful fire.

It started with a touch of their lips and soon, Laura shifted to her back and gave herself over to Remington's tactile perusal. With a whisper-soft touch, Remington traced her brow and cheekbone down along the length of her jaw as his lips feathered over her face, his eyes closed, learning her features through touch alone. Laura found herself floating on the fuzzy cloud somewhere between wakefulness and slumber and, before succumbing to sleep, she pulled him to her with her hand on his shoulder and her lips holding his in a lingering kiss. Her hand slipped down to rest on his hip and with a contented sigh, she drifted off.

Remington pulled back and saw that she was as good as asleep, and, with a small smile, he brushed a soft kiss across her forehead, settling down beside her. The last thing he remembered was her own dreamy smile, that which he looked across to lose himself in the mesmerizing narrative of the dying embers.


	19. A Secret in the Tower

Having awoken thoroughly chilled, the red hot embers of the fire reduced to mostly grey ash, Remington managed to induce Laura to move to the grand four poster that was the centerpiece of their master bedchamber.

"Rem, what's going on?" Laura had asked sleepily, a reluctant dead-weight to his efforts in rousing her from their huddle.

"I think you'll agree, my Lady of the Castle, that we'd be much more comfortable in our bed, hmmm?"

Through a curtain of unruly ribbons of her chestnut hair, Laura smiled groggily in her sleepy haze and obliged him, "I like the way you think, my Lord."

Upon reaching the bed, Remington turned down the blankets and Laura groped her way across the cool sheets. He slipped in beside her and pulled her into his arms saying, "We must huddle for warmth, Laura, lest we catch a chill." Laura snuggled close to him with a chuckle, his words reminding her of days gone by, and soon, she was laughing outright, her shoulders shaking slightly. "Something funny?" Remington pulled away and quirked his eyebrows at her.

"I was just remembering that night we spent in that abandoned town in the desert… when we searched for Arnold Dobb's gold?"

"How could I forget the dismal failure of my foolproof plan to get you in the sack," Remington said, a frown in his voice.

"You did get me in the sack!" Laura rebuked.

Remington stilled and said, his tone rueful, "There was one major problem with our little interlude in dusty Old California, Laura."

"What?" Laura asked breathlessly, facing him in the darkness.

"No follow-through..." They both laughed then, as they rubbed noses, Laura pressing her lips to beneath his ear as they settled down again.

With a sigh, Remington said, "It is a relief that I no longer have to come up with schemes to get you in a clinch."

"I agree, Mr. Steele." Her voice infused with her smile as she pressed herself into the rumble of his murmur of affirmation.

Remington kissed the top of Laura's head as he whispered, "Let's get some sleep now, love. Tomorrow will be a big day. We'll go to the hospital and check on Sarah and Pace. Oh, and Mildred will be arriving late tomorrow afternoon. Mickeline promised to pick her up," Laura hummed in response as his scent settled her mind and she drifted back to sleep, Remington following soon after.

Laura awoke when a crimson ray of sunshine pierced the hairline gap of the heavy velvet curtains. She stretched and sat up, feeling refreshed and wide awake. Remington was fast asleep, lying on his back. Leaning back towards him on her elbow, Laura brushed away a stray lock from his forehead, and murmured with affection and a slight shake of her head, "The King of the Castle...". She pressed a soft kiss to the spot she had uncovered and turned from him to get up.

Deciding to take advantage of the early hour and go for a run while Remington slept, Laura tiptoed about, fumbling in the semi-darkness for her sweats. Before heading downstairs, she visited the bathroom, and when she was finished, hesitated and walked over to the bed where Remington still slept. She was just leaning over him to plant another kiss on his forehead when he stirred, rolling to his stomach. Laura froze, and when he settled anew, she quietly hurried from the room before he could wake and convince her to stay.  _Lord knows it wouldn't take much!_  she thought to herself as she soundlessly left the room and nimbly scampered down the stairs allowing herself a little chuckle.

She fairly collided with Mickeline as she rounded the corner, both of them moving at top speed.

"Oh! Mickeline! I beg your pardon! I was not watching where I was going ..."

Mickeline shook his head and replied, "Not a problem, Mrs. Steele. I was just on my way to give you the news. I just received a phone call from Fergus Dunne. Miss Sarah and the baby are doing just fine. Babe was born just after midnight. I thought you'd want to know as soon as I heard."

Laura smiled widely as she replied, "That's great news! Thank you, Mickeline."

"Not a problem, Mrs. Steele. I guessed you might have been worried about her from your inquiries last evening." Laura placed her hand on his arm and nodded to him with a grateful smile.

Changing the subject, Mickeline asked, "Heading out for a run, Mrs. Steele?"

"I am, but I'm glad I bumped into you... Can you arrange for your niece to come by this evening to have a look at her portfolio? In all the confusion during the last week, I realized that we still haven't met with her yet, and I would like to finalize the plans for our wedding photos. " Laura explained.

"Yes, I'll speak to Kaitlyn straight away and be sure to have her here at seven sharp," Mickeline nodded. "Oh, and Mrs. Steele, the gardener informed me this morning that the swans have returned to the lough. They're nesting around the north side, should your run take you in that direction."

Laura smiled warmly as she replied, "Oh, really? That sounds delightful. I'm sure Mr. Steele will want to see them. He is quite the ornithologist."

"Perhaps you and his Lordship would care to take your breakfast outside? We have a few areas that we're considering for outdoor dining. I'll find a good spot and have the staff set a table for you both if you wish." Mickeline offered as they made their way down the hall, "I hear the kitchen is experimenting with an old family recipe, Irish eggs. Similar to an omelet but without the cheese. He's already made soda bread muffins I believe." Mickeline stopped just outside the kitchen, the smell of the soda bread filling the air. "Hmmm, smells wonderful. Reminds me of when I when I was a lad," Mickeline reminisced for a moment, then added, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I should get back to my desk to answer a call from the bank this morning. We are in the process of setting up the accounts for the vendors in time for our grand opening as a hotel the first of next month."

After speaking to Terrence about arranging a vehicle for their use in the busy days ahead, Laura set out, stretching her stiff muscles against the side of the building. The new day was milder than it had been, even without the full force of the sun, and Laura took some cleansing breaths, reaching high above of her head then down to her toes. As she turned towards the lake and set out at a light jog, the ever-brightening rays of the early morning sun chased the inky blues of the night westward, a silver sliver of the moon it's only talisman left behind, reflected in the lough's still waters. The rhythmic crunch of the gravel was the only sound Laura could hear as she ran along a lonesome path, the lake to her left, the castle's grey turrets above the treetops, the stone faces peppered with small black windows like beady eyes of a misshapen beast. A foreign sound entered Laura's ears and she stopped abruptly to decipher its origin.

It was a curious whirring, as of many flags flapping in a relentless wind. Laura looked both ways, then up. She had come to a part of the trail that ran parallel with the castle's western flank, which, in addition to housing the happily situated master's bedchamber within its southwest wing, where her and Remington were staying, also boasted a northwest wing, above which rose the castle's tallest, and most prominent tower. It was not far from the base of this northwest wing where Laura now stood, looking way up the 50-foot stone face, still black in shadow in the early morning light. A single window was all she could make out at the turret's topmost point around which swarmed what must have been a sizeable number of tiny flying forms, judging by the prominent din of their efforts. It was hard to make out what they were doing due to the speed of their erratic movements, but as the light grew, Laura determined that they, one by one, disappeared through that topmost window, which, she was surprised to realize, was slightly ajar. Then it hit her. "Bats! They're all bats!", thought Laura to herself just as the last of them crawled through the opening. She wondered how a window in such a secluded part of the castle would be left open, let alone opened in the first place. She pondered those niggling facts for a moment before quickly looking at her watch, "Oh! I'd better get moving if I want to get this run in before breakfast.", she muttered to herself and with a last look over her shoulder up at the solitary window high above, she continued on her way down the path.

By the time Laura returned to the secondary entrance to the castle, from where she had set out on her run, the sun was warming it's stone walls and the nesting birds were in full song.

She found Remington waiting for her, leaning against the ornamental balustrade of the steps leading up to the door.

When he saw her, he looked away with a half smile, squinting into the distance and pushed himself upright, saying, "I missed you this morning..."

"You did?", Laura managed, as she came to a stop, and bent over to catch her breath.

"...mm, but when I noticed your sneakers missing, I figured you'd escaped to engage in this folly you consider a challenge." Remington continued.

Laura straightened up, her hands on her hips, giving him a withering look, but could not suppress a smirk, and played along, "Brilliant deduction, Mr. Steele. You're getting very good at this. Perhaps you should consider becoming a detective... a real detective, that is."

Remington smirked back and squinted up at the sun again as he said, "Well, my recently acquired fiancée seems to have a habit of disappearing out of our bed first thing in the morning, so, honing my skills may be advisable, if I'm to lay claim to my husbandly prerogatives in the future... .Ah!..." he exclaimed suddenly, not seeing Laura's look of shock, as one of the castle's staff appeared at the door and descended the stairs toward them. On a tray, he carried a tall glass of juice, beside which lay a folded hand towel.

With a slight bow to Laura, the young man presented her with these, while Remington stood by casually, his hands in his pockets, and a satisfied smile on his face.

Laura accepted the juice and towel and drank her fill before replacing the glass on the tray. While she patted her forehead and neck, Remington dismissed the footman, with a "Thank-you my good man."

"You're really taking this Lord of the Manor role seriously, aren't you?"

"Are you suggesting that you are NOT enjoying your part as Her Ladyship?" Laura interjected with an,

"Absolutely not!", but Remington continued, "...Ordering breakfast served on the veranda, hmmmm?" Again, a shocked look from Laura dissolved quickly, as she busied herself, folding up her towel, "Oh, that, ...well, it was Mickeline's idea..." she said defensively, adding, "...besides, it's a beautiful day, and he and the kitchen staff are developing dining options for the Castle's future as a luxury inn..."

Laura's excuses were silenced as she felt Remington grasp her waist and pull her to him.

"The morning's beauty pales in comparison to yours, Mrs. Steele." He said, kissing one side of her neck, then the other. Laura giggled and squirmed and pushed him away weakly, and said, "Don't, Remington. ..I'm all sweaty..."

"Nonsense, you are brightened by your exertions, which reminds me of a more rewarding way of exerting oneself..."

"Oh! Mrs. Steele!..." said Mickeline's voice, "You're back!"

Remington and Laura flew apart and turned to Mickeline, who was walking towards them, binoculars hanging from his neck. He. continued excitedly, "Did you see the swans?" Laura's discovery of the bats and the open window had so unnerved her, she had completely forgotten about the aforementioned swans. She answered with a completely flustered, "Oh! I completely forgot..." And now that she thought about, she'd meant to work out where the open window was located, but her and Remington's little verbal sparring match had distracted her further. She turned her head towards that end of the castle, craning her neck to see the exact location of abandoned turret she had spied earlier. Remington looked on in puzzlement, his head following her movements, and turning to look in the direction in which she was looking.

Meanwhile, Mickeline was prattling on about the different species of birds that the castle grounds boasted, "...but this Long-Legged Field Darter in unknown to myself or any of the groundskeepers here at Ashford Castle..." Laura's head whipped back to look at Mickeline in disbelief as he went on about him and his staff pouring over the Castle logs going back hundreds of years to look for evidence of the rare bird. Laura then leveled a stern gaze at Remington who nodded slowly at Laura with a knowing look, saying, "Yes, Mickeline here has been quizzing me relentlessly since I came down looking for you, asking me about this bird and that bird and the different behaviors they exhibit. Apparently, I'm quite the expert." Mickeline bid them good morning and kept going, exclaiming something about using a bit of free time to go in search of this new discovery so he could update his records.

Remington took Laura by the arm and guided her back towards the door. As they disappeared through the door, Laura was shaking her head at him, and saying, "Was it really necessary to work him up like that?"

Freshly showered, Laura pulled the door to their room closed behind her and adjusted her sleeves as she made her way down the hall. Remington had stayed downstairs to take his tea with the morning paper while he waited for Laura to join him for breakfast. By now, she was famished and looked forward to a leisurely breakfast by the Lough.

As she turned to descend the stairs, Laura noticed a door at the end of the dim hall that continued past the stairs from their hallway. This was presumably the Northwest wing where she had seen the open window. She glanced down the stairs, then mashed her lips together in indecision. With a firm nod, she looked back down the hallway and strode towards the door.  _I simply must discover from where that window originates!_

Laura's strident gait was interrupted and she froze midstep when she heard a faint sound like someone singing. It echoed eerily in the vast hallway. The hair on the back of Laura's neck stood straight up as she tried to determine from where the singing was coming.

Suddenly a door to her right flung open and one of the castle's staff dressed in her black and white uniform, her hands full with a vacuum and all its hoses and wands, barged into the hall singing off key. The girl jumped and they both screamed, the maze of metal and plastic she had been lugging fell to the ground in a massive clatter.

"Oh, your Ladyship! I didn't expect to see you here. I'm about to see to your room."

"Oh, I am sorry, ...um...?" Laura began, her hand clutching her suit jacket lapels as she recovered from her fright.

"Kathleen...at your service, your Ladyship." The young girl offered, with a small curtsy.

"Ah, Kathleen... Well, I heard your singing and did not know what it was, so I came to investigate...". Laura said distractedly, peering down the dim hallway, once again.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mrs. Steele?"

"Oh, it's nothing, really. But I wondered where that door leads to?"

"Oh, I wouldn't be knowing that, your Ladyship. The door is locked and the key has been missing for decades."

"Oh, I see." Laura looked away, disappointed about the dead-end she'd encountered.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd best return to my duties.", said Kathleen, gathering up the different parts of the vacuum.

"Can I help?", Laura said, bending to help the girl with the cumbersome vacuum.

"Oh, not at all, my Lady. I can manage just fine, thank-you!". Kathleen said, straightening up and readjusting a hose that had started to slip, her face flushed and wisps of hair falling around her eyes and cheeks. Blowing them off her face with an upward puff of air, the determined young servant dismissed her self with a cheerful nod of her head, "A pleasant day to you, Mrs. Steele."

"Thank-you Kathleen. Same to you..." Laura said absently as she watched the young girl make way awkwardly down the hall.

Laura walked slowly back to the top of the stairs and pondered for a moment, pinching her bottom lip. Then her eyes brightened, her fingers reaching for a hairpin when suddenly she heard Remington call her name and appear at the landing below. He climbed the dozen or so stairs, two at a time, arriving by Laura's side out of breath.

"Will I ever escape the stairs of the world? I must have a word with Mickeline about including elevators in his refurbishment plans, starting with this wing." Remington groused, then he paused as he took in Laura's furtive glances down the hall. "Laura, are you quite well? What are you looking at? You know we really must get down to breakfast if we are to visit Sarah and Pace at the hospital in good enough time to meet Mildred when she arrives."

Remington gentle scolding seemed to snap her out of her reverie and she conceded, "You're right. Let's go!" And she nimbly made her way down the stairs, but by now, Remington's curiosity had been peaked and he was now standing there, looking down the dark hallway, trying to divine what had so fascinated Laura.

Now it was his turn to come to attention as Laura's mocking sing-songy voice chimed in his ears, "Come along, Mr. Steele! Don't doddle!"

With that, he gave her a rueful look and, descending the stairs to join her, gestured her with an arm to precede, and quipped, "After you, your _High_ness."


	20. New Beginnings

**Chapter 20**

After arriving downstairs in the main foyer, Remington and Laura were led by Mickeline along a cobblestone path, lined with rosebud laden bushes, to a stone patio that was perched over the edge of the lake. The weather-worn and time-weary balustrades were undergoing upgrades by a small crew of workman wielding trowels, Mickeline explained and begged their pardon for the inconvenience. Remington and Laura assured him they did not mind and sat down at an ornate, wrought iron table laid out for a meal.

Remington and Laura had been quiet on their way down to breakfast, Remington frustrated about Laura's tight-lippedness about what was distracting her, and Laura felt inexplicably reticent about sharing her discovery. He had asked her before they reached Mickeline what she had been looking at and she dismissed it as nothing with a finality that shut him down.

Now they sat, while Mickeline prattled on about things they did not quite hear, nodding blankly with hollow smiles, until he took his leave when their breakfast arrived. Laura behaved as if nothing was amiss, except for her unmistakable dodging of Remington's efforts to catch her eyes, which were glued to the plate of food before her, and an occasional furtive glance up at the Castle's topmost tower.

Finally, Remington slapped his napkin onto the table and took a deep breath as if to say something when Laura grabbed his arm and, looking out at the water over his shoulder, whispered excitedly, "There they are!"

"Who?!" Remington froze, looking at her, torn between utter puzzlement and seething anger at her silent treatment.

"The Swans!" Laura was still whispering, her eyes alight, and her hand still clamped on Remington's forearm, squeezing him in her unabashed delight at seeing the majestic pair float past them, their ivory necks twining in a graceful dance, morphing from parallel to mirrored movements, like some kind of exquisite mobile.

Remington looked around to watch the breathtaking display, then slowly turned back to Laura, his eyes reflecting his dissolved anger. He reached over cautiously and, hesitating briefly, covered her hand with his. "Laura," he ventured.

"Hm?" Laura was suspended in her admiration of the sight before them but faltered somewhat at his touch. She slowly met his gaze as he continued, "In as much as I enjoy the, uh...", he paused slightly as he searched for a word, then smiled when one came to him, "... challenge...that you present...I sometimes feel the need for some reassurance that we are on the same page." Laura faltered under his steady gaze and pulled her hand away, smoothing the napkin on her lap. Remington gently caught her busy hand in his, "Laura?... Are we on the same page?"

"What do you mean?" Laura's eyes met his, a hint of alarm pulling her eyebrows upwards.

"Are you... happy about getting married?" Laura pulled her hand away, folding her arms tightly around herself and took a deep breath, looking out across the water, her expression pained.

Remington continued hastily, "I mean I know you care about me, but ... marriage is a beast unto its own..." He concluded with an empathy in his eyes.

Laura's eyes shined with tears as she looked in her lap then up at Remington, "It's my mother..."

Remington was flummoxed, "Abigail!?"

"My parents loved each other, cared about each other...deeply, I believe...I remember seeing them so happy and in love when I was very young." Laura stood and walked over towards the lake's edge. Remington got up, silently gritting his teeth as he tried to contain his disappointment at feeling that, after all these years, certain insecurities still plagued Laura and threatened to derail their plans. Nevertheless, he felt that it was important to hear her out and if she was willing to talk, he was game, so he quietly followed her a couple of steps behind, giving her space as she continued, "Then the arguments started, from one day to the next...even Frances seemed confused. Everything had changed. There was a tension in our family dynamic that, had it always been there, we would not have recognized the difference. If only it had blown over, but alas, it went on for years until one day, he was just... gone. I always assumed it was another woman. My mother never said a word...at least, not to me... She was a changed woman. After Daddy disappeared, she just went on autopilot..." Laura turned and took up a slow pace along a path that hugged the lake's shore. Extracting her hand from her folded arms, and, with a dismissive flick of her hand, she hastily added, "Well, at least she didn't fall apart completely. She maintained her exacting hold of the housework and social responsibilities expected of a cold war housewife and expected the same of Frances and me, but I think that was all a front." Laura came to halt and half turned, squinting at the far shore of the Loch, allowing barely a sideways glance at Remington as he mirrored her actions and face the water. "To answer your question; Yes, we are on the same page, but you may be a couple of paragraphs ahead of me..."

Remington wasn't sure what to make of that, so he remained quiet, and tried to release the breath he was holding.

Laura now turned, facing Remington, and he did the same as she looked him in the eyes, saying, "Bottom line, I want us to be together. In my heart, I know it's the right path, and not for a moment did I ever consider ending our engagement." Remington hoped that his sigh of relief was indiscernible. Luckily, Laura was not finished and kept talking, placing her hand on his arm, "I want to you to know that. Just try to understand the devastation I felt when my Father left us..."

Laura once again hugged herself tightly and looked out at the sterling waters of the lake, "...for a while there, it felt like I had lost both my parents...there were times when...never mind."

Remington furrowed his brows, "Laura, tell me. Times when what?"

"There were times that I felt so lost that I thought to myself that it would have been better if they had never met..." Remington made a move to negate the notion, but Laura hiked up her shoulders defensively with her palms up, "...It's fine! I don't feel that way anymore. I was a teenager and going through a rough patch and Mother, in her glass castle, was in no condition to understand what I was going through... Anyways, I made something of myself and that has made all the difference..."

Remington took her in his arms, breathing out an, "Ah, Laura! Thank goodness for that! Look at the difference you've made in the lives of so many! Namely me. And I for one am glad your parents met and got married."

Laura pulled back without releasing Remington and said, "Why is that?"

"As I've told you before Laura, I could never have invented anyone quite like you. So, I will be forever grateful to your parents that they brought you into the world and brought up the best person I have ever known."

For the first time that morning, Laura smiled and said, "Thank-you fo..."

But Remington silenced her with a finger to her lips, and then, cupping the back of her head, kissed her forehead with a tenderness that made Laura feel warm and somewhat fuzzy somewhere in the vicinity of her heart.

Remington hooked his arm around her waist and steered her back towards the castle as he checked his watch, "We should leave soon if we hope to see Pace and Sarah at the hospital." Together they walked back to the castle garage, finding the small sedan just as Terrence described. Remington had no trouble finding the hospital to Laura's amazement and when she questioned him his simple reply was, "Really, Laura, I just followed the signs."

With his hand on her lower back, he guided her through the entrance, stopping at the admissions desk to inquire the floor and room Sarah was in. The attendant gave them directions to the elevator with a smile and together they found the Maternity Ward easily. Laura paused outside the large picture window of the nursery and peered at the infants all bundled up. Remington gently pulled her along and soon they found themselves outside of Sarah's room.

Laura and Remington knocked lightly on the hospital room door and slowly pushed the door open. "Hello?" Laura called out quietly. The room was dim, the only brightness from a small light behind Sarah's hospital bed. She was reclining against the pillows, a small bundle of blankets in her arms.

"Mr. Steele, Mrs… I mean Laura," she said quietly. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Laura moved and stood beside the bed and looked down at the Sarah and the baby. She couldn't see much, just a tiny body, swaddled in blankets with a pink and blue striped hat on its tiny head. "How are you doing?" she asked.

Sarah looked at the sleeping baby in her arms, then back up at Laura, "I'm tired, sore, but happy. I can't believe the babe is here, in my arms. I guess I should have paid better attention on Saturday to what was happening."

"Nonsense. You couldn't have known. After all, you thought you still had…" her voice trailed off.

"Another six weeks or so I thought but nope, this little one is full of surprises," Sarah answered. She shifted the baby in her arms and looked up, "Would you like to hold her?"

"Her?" Remington piped up. He had been shifting uncomfortably at the end of the bed, not knowing exactly where he should stand or sit.

"Emma Rose, all two and a half kilos of her," Sarah announced proudly. She sat up a little higher then lifted the baby toward Laura. Carefully, Laura cradled her head with her hand before tucking her into the crook of her right elbow. She sat down on the chair beside the bed and looked down at the sleeping bundle.

Remington moved to stand beside Laura to get a better look. He could barely make out two pink cheeks and light-colored eyelashes amongst the blanket and hat she was bundled in. Laura turned her head one way then the other, trying to get a better look at the sleeping baby in her arms.

Sarah looked on with a smile and quickly realized they wanted a better look at her daughter. She leaned forward with a slight groan and gently pulled the baby's hat off her head revealing wisps of strawberry blonde hair much like her own. The baby squirmed slightly when her hat was tugged off and opened her eyes. Her grey-blue eyes rolled, unfocused in the light until they appeared to settle on Laura. Emma yawned, her tiny mouth stretching wide as she squirmed again. Laura could feel her trying to stretch her arms, but she was swaddled tightly. Sarah watched and said, "She's due to eat any time, so you can loosen her up if you wish."

Laura moved the baby to lay in her lap, her hand supporting her head. Biting her bottom lip in anticipation, she gently pulled on the blanket and slowly, Emma stretched one arm out, then the other, reaching above her head and arching her back in the process. Remington puckered his lips in appreciation as Laura stroked one finger down the baby's cheek tenderly. Laura lifted Emma to her shoulder, her little-diapered bottom cradled in Laura's hand, her tiny legs tucked up tightly.

"Sarah, she's beautiful," Laura whispered as she held the baby close.

"That she is, much like her mother," Remington stated as he leaned forward to gently caress the baby's head. His long fingers appeared so big in comparison to the small infant.

Sarah slowly swung her legs off the edge the bed and said, "I need a minute, would you mind holding her? I was going to ask the nurse to move her for me, but you both came in."

"No, take as much time as you need. She's not going anywhere, is she, Mrs. Steele?" Remington said quickly. He was fascinated watching Laura hold the baby. She was touching her hands softly, running her fingers across the baby's little nose and chin, stroking her legs and adjusting her from one hand to another with such grace he couldn't help wonder what it would be like if Laura was holding their own child.

Laura heard the bathroom door close but never looked up from the baby. She was studying her as if she was memorizing every feature of the tiny person in her arms. She felt Remington watching her, so she looked up, her brown eyes meeting his bright blue ones. He was crossing and uncrossing his arms as he sat on the edge of the hospital bed. "Would you like to hold her, Mr. Steele?" Laura asked.

"Well… I… would…" Remington stuttered and before he could finish his sentence, Laura stood and gently placed the baby in his arms. "She's magnificent, Laura. Truly a wonderful gift," he whispered as the baby blinked, her eyes trying to find focus in the dim light. Laura sat on the bed beside him and as the baby stretched her tiny hands out, Laura rested her finger in a small palm. Almost instantly, tiny fingers wrapped around the tip of her finger and held on tight.

Pace entered the room without knocking and was surprised to find Laura and Remington sitting on the end of Sarah's bed, Remington holding the baby and Sarah noticeably absent. He cleared his throat and Remington's head shot up nervously. "Pace, mate, we didn't hear you come in. We are just admiring your beautiful baby here," he said as he looked around the room.

Sarah walked out of the bathroom and saw Pace. She crossed the room gingerly and put her arms around him, "She is beautiful, isn't she?"

Pace hugged Sarah back and together they walked to the bed. Sarah sat down slowly as Pace helped lift her legs onto the bed. "Do you need anything? Water? Something to eat? I can ask the nurse if it's all right?" he asked.

Sarah shook her head and replied, "I'm fine but I'm pretty sure Emma is going to need to eat in a few minutes."

Pace moved to the other side of the bed and took the baby from Remington who gently lifted her into her father's arms. "She seems pretty happy right now," he declared as he held the baby close and sat in the chair Laura had occupied earlier.

"For now. You'll hear her when she's not," Sarah teased. As if on cue, the baby began whimpering and wiggling in her father's arms.

"We should probably be going. We don't want to intrude on this family time," Laura stated as she stood.

Remington raised an eyebrow at Laura but said nothing until they reached the door. Turning back, he could see Pace handing the baby back to Sarah just before she unsnapped the hospital gown. "Sarah, Pace, congratulations again. We'll see you soon. Take care," he stated with a wave just before closing the hospital room door.


	21. Shortcuts and Guilty Pleasures

Laura and Remington rode the elevator to the main floor of the hospital and when they departed the car, Remington noticed the signs for the Emergency Department. "Laura, why don't we take a stop in Emergency and see if we can get those stitches removed. After all, why make an extra trip all the way to St. John's if we're already here?" he suggested, pointing toward the large double doors at the end of the hall.

Laura glanced up at the sign then down the hall and nodded, "Sounds reasonable. The doctor did say ten days and it's only been eight, but we can try. Why not." Together they walked into the reception area, heavily packed with waiting patients. Laura looked around and sighed. She placed her hand on his arm and whispered, "Maybe this isn't a good idea. Look at that crowd, we'll be here all afternoon. We can just drive to St. John's later this week."

Remington flashed a toothy grin in Laura's direction, winked, and said, "Let's see what I can do, eh?" Laura rolled her eyes as she watched him walk to the admissions desk. He leaned onto his elbows against the counter and wearing his best grin he asked, "Excuse me, miss, could you help us?"

A middle-aged clerk barely looked up at him and scowled, "The wait is four hours."

Remington smiled at her, pursed his lips and leaned closer, "My wife simply needs a few stitches removed. Would it be possible for someone to-"

"The wait is FOUR HOURS!" she snapped again, slamming the file folder she had in her hands down on the desk. Remington jumped back and grimaced. He turned to face Laura when they heard a familiar voice calling them.

"My Lord, Mrs. Steele," a male voice said.

Laura looked around and saw the doctor who had treated her at St. John's Hospital. "Doctor? What are you doing here?" she asked surprised.

"I stopped by to visit a colleague and help with a case we were working on together. What brings you here? Those stitches are bothersome, are they?" the doctor asked, concerned.

"No, not anymore. We were visiting someone upstairs and since we're already here, we just thought it's been eight days already that maybe I was healed enough to have them removed," Laura stated.

The doctor nodded and replied, "We tell everyone ten days, but truth be told, they can usually come out in seven. Here, follow me, I'll take care of this right now." He turned and walked into the large swinging double doors of the emergency department. Laura and Remington didn't move initially, unsure if they should follow him. "Are you coming?" the doctor called to them as he held the door open.

"Coming, coming," Remington sang as he guided Laura to the doctor and away from the glaring looks of the clerk at the desk. He didn't miss her sarcastic comment, "Some people!" as they walked through the doors

They followed him through the emergency department until he found an open examination room. "Sit right there, I'm just going to get a few supplies," the Doctor indicated the exam table as he walked away.

Laura looked at Remington, shrugged her shoulders, and eased herself onto the table. She swung her legs a few times as Remington opened and closed drawers and cabinets, aimlessly looking at the contents. He tipped one container to look inside and finding nothing of great interest, moved onto the next. He opened one drawer after another, stopping when something caught his attention. He pulled out an unidentified metal instrument from the small drawer. He spun it around in his hands, trying to figure out what it was when Laura said, "That's used for examining… lady parts." He immediately dropped the instrument and shuddered visibly.

"Honestly, Laura, it looks more like a medieval torture device," he stated with a grimace as he nudged the instrument with the toe of his shoe.

Laura laughed loudly as she pointed and said, "You may want to pick that up before the doctor comes back."

Remington reached down and picked up the offensive instrument with two fingers. He heard the doctor outside the door, comment, "Mrs. Steele, I must say this does make things easier for both of us" just as he stood up. On instinct, he tossed it behind the exam table where it landed with a soft clatter. He straightened up, wiping his hand on his pant leg, as a guilty grin spread across his face. "What do you mean by that, Doctor?" he asked, stepping closer to Laura.

"Well, it saves you a round trip back to St. John's and Wednesdays are my busiest day at the hospital. You would have had to wait for hours. No, no, this is much better. Now, Mrs. Steele, lay back, get comfortable and let me take a look," the doctor said after pulling the privacy curtain closed and turning to face her.

Laura lay back against the paper covered pillow, leaned her head to the side and closed her eyes. The doctor reached over, pulled the exam light closer and flipped it on. He tugged on a pair of latex gloves and using a tongue depressor gently pushed her hair aside. "This is healing quite nicely, Mrs. Steele. You've done a marvelous job keeping this clean. I feel completely comfortable removing these stitches today. Now, you may feel a little bit of discomfort and some tugging. That is to be expected but if you feel any pain, please tell me," the doctor instructed.

Without waiting for a reply, the doctor immediately got down to business. He started by cleaning the area with a bottle of antiseptic wash, then proceeded to lift the first stitch with a pair of surgical forceps. He snipped the first knot with surgical scissors and gently tugged on the thread until it released. He dropped the material onto the small table beside him and repeated the process. On the third stitch, as he tugged, Laura winced audibly. Remington immediately crouched down and held her hand. "Laura, you all right, love?" he asked softly. Laura opened her eyes to see soft blue ones staring back at her.

Laura pursed her lips and gave her head a sharp nod but didn't say anything. "You'll need to keep still, Mrs. Steele," the doctor stated as he continued to tug on the next stitch. Laura held Remington's hand until all the stitches had been removed. The doctor used the tongue depressor and light to take a closer look before he rubbed antibiotic ointment on the area. He sat back and said, "You are all set now, Mrs. Steele. Just try not to overdo it. Be careful showering for another few days and I'll send you home with more of that ointment."

Remington helped Laura sit up and reached into his jacket pocket for his wallet. "How much do we owe you, Doctor?" he asked.

The doctor patted his arm and replied, "Nothing, your Lordship, this one's on the house." He looked at Laura and smiled as he said, "Mrs. Steele, try to stay out of mines during the rest of your stay here in Ireland. If you need anything else, please give me a call." He handed Remington a business card with a handshake. "Have a safe trip back to Los Angeles."

"Thank you, Doctor. Thank you," Remington replied. He covered the doctor's hand with his own before pocketing the business card. When the doctor left the room, Remington looked at Laura and suggested, "Well, Mrs. Steele, let's head back to the castle, shall we?" He guided Laura back through the double doors and shooting the clerk behind the desk a large toothy grin, he continued walking to the main entrance of the hospital where they had parked. They didn't miss the clerk's audible groan before they left the emergency department.

"I don't think she likes you very much," Laura laughed.

Remington joined in her laughter as he replied, "I guess I may have lost my touch then."

Laura slipped her arm around Remington's waist and squeezed him gently. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Remington brushed his lips against her temple and asked, "For what, love?"

"For being you, I guess. For holding my hand, being there," she stated softly. They arrived at the car, Laura stopped and leaned her back against the door. She took his hands in hers and held them loosely. She looked up, squinting in the bright sun, her brown eyes shimmering.

"Laura, are you feeling all right?" Remington asked. He released one hand and cupped her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone.

Laura turned into his hand, kissing his palm before she sighed and said, "Let's go back to the castle. I suddenly feeling like I need to take a rest."

"Are you sure you're feeling all right. We can go back inside and speak with the good doctor," he said. He had a sinking feeling Laura was ill and he immediately became worried.

Laura rose on her tiptoes to kiss his lips lightly as she said, "I'm fine, Mr. Steele. Just tired. It's been a… busy day…. And Mildred will be here soon. I want to be refreshed for her arrival."

Remington pulled her close and hugged her, brushing his lips against her cheek before he reached behind her and pulled up on the door handle to open her car door. He waited until she was settled in before he closed the door. He climbed into the driver's seat and had a thought as he backed out of the parking spot. "So, Mrs. Steele, have you had any thoughts on dinner this evening? I know Kaitlyn is scheduled to arrive later but any ideas of what you might like to eat before that?"

Laura reached over and took his free hand in hers. "I'm not really sure, but I kind of miss meals from home. I wonder if there's any place we can get a simple cheeseburger or a chili dog," she laughed.

"A cheeseburger? Chilidog? Really, Laura? Of all the meals you could choose, that's what you want?" Remington sounded surprised although he knew he shouldn't be.

"Well, I suppose we could have another gourmet meal from the cook," Laura said nonchalantly. "Then retire to bed early because I'll be so full, I couldn't possibly stay awake another minute," she added.

"Or I can stop at the local market and get the ingredients for one of my wife's guilty pleasures," he teased.

Laura laughed, "Or we could do that." She looked at him, suprised to see him smiling back at her. "You'd really do that for me?"

Remington nodded as he said, "Really, Laura, I told you before… what mother wants, mother gets."

"But I'm not -" Laura began but Remington stopped her as he brought her fingers to his lips and winked at her, leaving Laura suspended, her mouth gaping, between shock and amusement.


	22. Kaitlyn

"Mrs. Steele!" Mildred rushed across the dining room to where Laura sat at the table, frozen in mid-bite, about to plow into the cheeseburger Remington had made. "Oh, Mrs. Steele, you're all right! I was so worried when Mickeline told me what really happened." Quickly dropping the burger onto her plate, Laura stood and wrapped her arms around the older woman.

"I'm fine, Mildred, really. I even got the stitches removed this afternoon. See?" Laura stated as she brushed her hair aside so Mildred could inspect the rapidly healing gash on her head.

"And you!" Mildred turned to Remington, her finger pointed at him. "You should be ashamed of yourself, letting Mrs. Steele travel back from London alone. What were you thinking, Boss?" she asked sternly.

"I'm happy to see you too, Mildred. Would you care for a cheeseburger?" Remington laughed between bites.

"Cheese… you made cheeseburgers? Oh, I would love one! The food on the plane was… well, it wasn't first class dining I can tell you that," Mildred exclaimed as she sat down.

Remington stood and got two extra plates from the kitchen. He stepped into the hall and called down to Mickeline, "Come on, Mate. Mildred's waiting for you for dinner." He heard Mickeline laugh as he stepped out of his office into the hall.

"Thank you, your Lordship. I hope we're not intruding on your meal with Mrs. Steele," he said as he joined Remington and the two continued back to the dining room.

"Not at all, not at all. Besides, your niece, Kaitlyn, should be here soon. Saves me the trouble of searching for you then," Remington explained. The entered the room with Laura explaining the previous day's brunch to Mildred.

"So, you're telling me the boss has a whole family he didn't know about, here, in Ireland?" Mildred asked incredulously.

"Cousins, as a matter of fact," Remington announced, handing her a plate. "And a large group of them, I might add. Turns out, young Christian is actually the son of my cousin, Paddy. His mother took me in as a tot."

Mildred shook her head in disbelief, "Now wait just a minute. You're telling me, that Christian, the young man that helped you get Pace out of that situation at the mine is really your cousin's boy? And you didn't know any of this?"

Laura laughed and gestured at Remington as she said, "Mildred, you have to remember, Mr. Steele was only a young boy. He didn't know who anyone was back then. He was shuffled around for a while then got lost in the system. He ended up on the streets of England by the time he was eleven years old. He was angry, I'm sure, at everyone who had abandoned him."

"Oh, Boss, I'm sorry. I knew but I didn't know, you know?" Mildred said sympathetically. "Can you forgive me?"

Remington looked at Mildred with a smile and simply stated, "There's nothing to forgive, Mildred. From here on out, family is what's important."

"Speaking of family, have you let anything slip yet?" Mildred asked, her eyebrow raised as she took a bite of the burger Remington handed her. "Oh, Boss, oh… This is so good," she mumbled with her mouth full.

Laura laughed loudly again as she replied, "No, and before you ask, I've spoken to Mother several times as well as Frances. Frances is so excited we've invited her here, she doesn't let me get a word in edgewise. And my mother… well… you know how those conversations go."

Before anyone else could respond, Marybeth appeared from the kitchen, followed by bespectacled, dark-haired, young woman. From her shoulder hung a wide-strapped bag and with her lanky arms, she hugged close an attaché that was stretched to it's limit with what was presumably her portfolio of photographs. "Mickeline, sir," Marybeth called to get his attention.

"Kaitlyn!" Mickeline exclaimed as he jumped out of his seat and hurried across the room to hug the young woman.

"Uncle Mick," she said quietly as she leaned down to give him a hug, but before she could do that, her dark-framed glasses slipped down her nose, and she almost dropped her entire portfolio as her hand flew to her face to keep her glasses from falling. For a moment she and Mickeline were a bundle of arms flailing, trying to keep the photographs from scattering.

"Your Lordship, Mrs. Steele, Mildred, my niece, Kaitlyn," he introduced the young woman to everyone.

Remington wiped his mouth with his napkin, stood and offered his hand, "Kaitlyn, yes, we've been expecting you." He glanced down at his watch and realized the time. "It appears we were not diligent on our time this evening. Mrs. Steele, are you about finished? We can talk to Kaitlyn in the study," he looked at Laura, his eyebrows high.

Laura finished the bite she was taking, wiped her mouth as she finished chewing before she finally stood and extended her hand. "I agree, Mr. Steele. The study sounds like a good spot for us to talk." She looked at Mildred and winked as they left the room.

Laura and Remington entered the study and it wasn't until they were seated in the room's elegant high back chairs, that they realized that Kaitlyn was standing awkwardly just inside the door. Remington immediately rose up again and walked over gesturing towards a third chair, "Please do be seated, Kaitlyn."

"Yes, Your Lordship." the nervous girl murmured, virtually inaudibly, as she reluctantly followed Remington's lead and, relieving her shoulder of her photographer's satchel, she sat opposite Laura, who looked on in some discomfort.

Finally, after a long awkward silence, where Kaitlyn's attention was focused on the far horizon outside the window, her fingers fiddling with the zipper pull of her attaché. It was too full to be able to zip up and the unruly white corners of photographic paper could be seen, jagged in their disorder. Laura looked at Remington, who glared back at her, gesturing with his eyebrows for her to proceed with the interview.

They turned to Kaitlyn, composed, just in time for her eyes to return from the horizon and she and Laura spoke simultaneously:

"Uncle Mick says you've b..."

"So, Kaitlyn, how long have you been ...?"

All three of them laughed awkwardly and Laura took the reigns, "Your uncle, Mickeline, tells us you have quite an eye for photography. When did you begin taking pictures?"

Kaitlyn stuttered and stammered her way through a summary of her experience as a photographer to date. Encompassing just over the span of a year, Kaitlyn had at first, photographed christenings and first holy communions of cousins, then, as word spread, special events for friends, and then, friends of friends, which included several weddings.

All the while, Kaitlyn's hands never stopped, between frequently adjusting her glasses and some wisps of hair that would not stay put and keeping her folder together. Both Laura and Remington cringed periodically when the folder teetered precariously on her knees and all of its contents threatened to scatter.

Finally, when she finished her nervous speech, all three of them let out a collective breath as Kaitlyn's hands came to rest, wrapped protectively around her bursting portfolio. With a furtive sideways glance, Laura stood abruptly, Remington following suit, and, with a saccharine smile and with as much finesse as she could muster, said, "Excuse me Kaitlyn, I just remembered we forgot to make an appointment for later. Be right back..." And as she approached the door, she turned and bid an awkwardly-standing-there, indecisive Remington to accompany her, "...ahem...Mr. Steele?"

When they were walking briskly down the hallway, out of earshot, Remington turned on Laura, keeping up the pace she set with a stick-like sideways walk, flinging his arms with frustration, and said sternly, "Wasn't that just a tad rude?"

"You just HAD to let Mickeline rope you into hiring a family member. What are we running here? A charity? This my wedding we're talking about!"

"Oh, so now it's YOUR wedding, is it?" Remington stopped and planted his hands to his hips.

Laura turned to face him and spat back sarcastically, "Brilliant deduction, !... It's a figure of speech?!" Now her hands were on her hips too and they stood there fuming at each other. Laura relented first taking a step closer to Remington, and said in a lowered voice, "Don't you think she's rather...unorganized? I mean her portfolio...?!"

"Really Laura! Some of the nicest people I know have an aversion to paperwork!" Laura folded her arms and leaned back, giving him a withering look and, after a double take, Remington said, a slight twinkle in his eye, "And if I recall correctly, that little allergy to paperwork didn't stop you from giving a certain wayward someone a chance..."

A smirk pulled loose from Laura's stern expression and she conceded, "You're right, we should at least have a look at her pictures...but don't expect me to hire her if they're not up to snuff!"

Remington nodded with a begrudging hmph, but kept quiet, happy for the time being for Kaitlyn's present reprieve.

As they re-entered the study, Kaitlyn, startled, stood abruptly and her shabby portfolio and all her pictures shuffled to the floor every which way. "Oh no!" Laura exclaimed as she and Remington hurried to Kaitlyn's aid.

All 3 of them were now crouched on the floor gathering up the photographs that, Laura could now see, were extraordinary.

"Oh! These are beautiful!" Laura gasped, staring at the photos as she handled them, straightening them out one by one.

Filled with bright colors and crisp images of children playing, families posing in various settings, with family pets and farm animals and even a handful of images of wildlife in landscape settings, during different seasons and different times of day, Kaitlyn's photographs instantly captured Laura's admiration. One image struck Laura the most. A simple willow tree, silhouetted by the setting sun, the sky filled with yellow, orange and red hues, the hills shadowy figures in the distance.

When the photographs had been compiled, Laura and Remington helped Kaitlyn secure them in her strained folder. Remington, most pleased with himself, brushed his hands together as they straightened up from their crouched positions. He had deduced that Laura was sufficiently impressed by Kaitlyn's work and said to the shy young girl, "Well, Kaitlyn the first order of business will be to get you a new attaché that lives up to your extraordinary portfolio..."

Laura eyed him with surprise, and Remington shot her an apprehensive look from the corner of his eyes. Kaitlyn looked from Remington to Laura, her face lit up, and she said, "Does that mean…?".

The twinkle never having left her eyes, Laura couldn't quite erase the smirk from her face as she attempted to remain business-like, "Can we go for a walk, by the lough? I have a spot I'd like you to see," she said to Kaitlyn cryptically.

Kaitlyn, slightly flustered, teetering between managing her armful of photographs and her unruly glasses, answered, "Alright, let me just get my camera. She placed her portfolio on the armchair and reached into her bag, pulling out her camera and swinging the bag onto her shoulder.

The three of them made their way, with Laura in the lead, to an area along the water's edge. She had noticed the spot on one of her and Remington's previous walks and had recognized the potential for a suitable setting for their wedding photos. Remington touched his fingers to his lips as he watched Laura look around, stop and asked, "Here. What do you think about this spot right here?"

Both Rem and Laura looked over at Kaitlyn and were struck by the transformation of the shy awkward young girl with whom they had been speaking a few moments earlier. Like a swan taking to water, transformed from a flatfooted surly mass of feathers to a graceful elegant form, Kaitlyn had become assured in her actions when it came to her camera. She was surveying the scene through the lens, her long fingers rotating the rings and dials and checking the light and the angles. With her camera trained on Laura and Remington, Kaitlyn covered the terrain surrounding the spot Laura had selected with sure-footedness they had not predicted she would possess.

After a few minutes of exchanging the lens a couple of times with others from the bag that still hung from her shoulder and determining the most rewarding perspectives of the location, Kaitlyn approached Remington and Laura, and asked, "What time of day will the wedding take place?"

"Late afternoon, early evening," replied Remington.

Kaitlyn placed the cap back on the lens, saying, "This location will be lovely. I see a lot of potential."

"What exactly did you have in mind?" asked Laura.

Kaitlyn looked at Laura with a questioning look and, Remington, who had been looking between the two women apprehensively, rocking back and forth on his hips, one arm crossed, the hand pinching his bottom lip, spoke up and addressed Kaitlyn hurriedly, "Eh, Kaitlyn, you must excuse my wife's exacting nature. It's part of her charm, you see, and largely why we are here today planning our wedding..." He cast a sideways glance at Laura, whose initial glare at him had melted, as a hint of a blush kissed her cheeks, and her rarest of smiles graced her face and she stood there, figuratively swept off her feet by Remington's gallantry. He, in turn, stepped up to her and, as each wrapped an arm around the other's waist, Remington reiterated, "Well, it's true, isn't it, Mrs. Steele?" Laura lifted her lashes up to him with a faint look of admonishment, her free hand straightening his collar, and said, "Mr. Steele, I think you and I know that it goes both ways... but thank-you." By now Remington was also grinning from ear to ear and, Kaitlyn's presence all but forgotten, Laura stretched up and their lips met for a tender kiss. They heard the distinctive click of a camera and they both looked at Kaitlyn in surprise. She looked at them and said, a beatific smile on her face. "Yes, this location is perfect."

Remington and Laura were still standing in their embrace, a little too surprised to move. Kaitlyn spoke, "Well, see for yourself. Come and stand here your Ladyship."

Laura drew away from Remington and walked over to Kaitlyn. "Here, look through the viewfinder and see what I see." said the younger woman, extending her camera for Laura. "What do you see?" Laura leaned in to look, but pulled back, blushing some more and Kaitlyn, puzzled by her reaction, looked up and saw Remington still standing there, dashing as ever. With a small smile she spoke again, "Look PAST his Lordship and you will see that from this vantage point, you'll get a portion of the castle's South face and the water's edge as it laps around it's Southwest corner there. On a calm day, if the light is right and the wind is calm, you may even catch some spectacular illumination of the sunset on the water."

Laura looked back through the camera and exclaimed, "I see it!" As Remington approached the two women, he and Laura shared a conspiratorial nod and Laura turned to Kaitlyn. "That settles it, Kaitlyn," she said. "We'd like to retain your services for our wedding."

"Really?" Kaitlyn had been replacing her lens cap, looked up in surprise.

Remington stepped beside Laura and hugged her close to his side as he said, "My wife has made her decision."

"Thank you so much! It will be an honor to serve you!" Kaitlyn reached out to shake Laura's and Remington's hands.

"Mickeline can be proud of such an accomplished and talented niece!" said Laura smiling as she intertwined her arm around Remington and added, "I'd like you to see the chapel… if you have time that is. Give you a feel for the setting..."

"Oh, I am at your disposal for the rest of the evening!" Kaitlyn exclaimed.

"Wonderful! Shall we, Mr. Steele?"

Remington had looked a little uncomfortable at Laura's suggestion and, sliding his arm out of Laura's, seemed to struggle for words.

Laura looked at him, crestfallen, "You're not coming..." It was half a question, half a statement.

Remington rushed in to explain, "It's not that I don't find the discussion of our wedding photos positively riveting, bu-u-t...I believe it's time for my pipe and Brandy..." he finished hastily.

Laura was speechless, now standing with her knuckles pinned to her hips, eyeing him suspiciously. But Remington leaned forward kissing her firmly on her crown, and with his roguish dimple showing, he said quietly, "I look forward to a full debriefing in our chambers at day's end." Before Laura could respond, he turned to Kaitlyn, bid her farewell with a firm grasp of the hand, and strode swiftly towards the castle.

Laura turned to Kaitlyn with an embarrassed smile and proclaimed, "Men!" Laura gestured for them to proceed to the chapel and, as they disappeared amongst the castle shrubbery. Laura, amongst a flurry of questions, filled Kaitlyn in on the various details of her plans for the wedding.


	23. Tea Time Tease

**Chapter 23: Tea Time Tease**

After returning from the Castle grounds and bidding Kaitlyn farewell, Laura found Remington talking with Mildred over a cup of tea in a small but ornate sitting room on the third floor. He was reclining in one of the cozy room's elegant chairs, his long legs stretched languorously in front of him, Mildred sitting prim across from him in a matching chair.

"...and that crotchety old Crafton has been nothing but a pain the caboose! Every day he calls to criticize and complain while Monroe and his men are working over there. It's getting to the point that Crafton's interference is slowing the work, and completion has been delayed twice already."

"What's been delayed twice?" asked Laura as she swept into the room, catching the tail end of Mildred's rant.

"Ah, Laura! You found us!" exclaimed Remington, unfolding himself and rising in one fell swoop. He bent over the coffee table to prepare a cup for Laura. Mildred had in meantime rushed to ease Laura's anxiety about the possibility of a security contract going wrong, "Oh, Mrs. Steele! Don't worry, I've told Mr. Crafton in no uncertain terms that Monroe's men were not to be disturbed while I was away, otherwise, he would have to find another company to do the work"

"But Mildred!" Laura cried, her voice high and strained, "The security branch of Remington Steele Investigations is still only in its fledgling stages and we can't afford to lose clients!"

"Now Mrs. Steele, not to worry," Remington said handing Laura a cup. "What you need right now is some hot tea and one of Cook's strawberry tarts and things will seem much brighter."

He looked, grinning, between Mildred and Laura, the former shrugging off Laura's temper and the latter shaking her angry-eyebrowed head at Mildred as she turned to accept the proffered cup.

Remington watched as she sipped and, grinning, said, "And besides, once we've returned home to Los Angeles, you can call on our Mr. Crafton and settle his concerns in only the way that YOU apparently can." With a glance and a quick wink towards Mildred, Remington said, "Remember how he took a shining to Laura?" Mildred snickered in response and Remington continued, indicating Laura with a dip of his head, "Well...I'm sure he'll love to see again the little chickadee that brightened his day, eh, Mrs. Steele?"

Laura narrowed her eyes at him and, carefully replacing her cup on its saucer with a chink, she replied with a strained smile, "And I'm sure there will be plenty of leg work waiting for YOU when we return as well, Mr. Steele."

Remington, who had retrieved his own cup and was about to take a sip, sputtered into it in surprise at Laura's repartee. He quickly set his cup down, grabbing the closest napkin to wipe his dripping chin as he replied through his teeth, "Yes, I'm sure there will be." Looking down, he saw the damp line of tea beginning to stain the white shirt he was wearing.

While Remington glared down at his shirt, Mildred turned again to Laura, "Oh! And Mrs. Steele. I've started working on a proposal for Recovery Bonds to keep us on retainer. Seeing as they use our services regularly, I figured it would save both our companies time and money if we set up a monthly fee. Maybe later you and I could sit down and come up with a number that would be satisfactory for all."

Laura replied, "That sounds reasonable. We can work it out tomorrow after breakfast."

Remington had placed his tea on the coffee table and was irately eyeing the stain, "Mrs. Steele? You, without a doubt, have been the hardest on my wardrobe of any person I have ever known. From now on, my tailor will be hearing the truth about what really goes on." He strode towards the door, tossing over his shoulder, "I'd better soak this before the stain sets in."

"Good idea! An ounce of prevention, right Mr. Steele?" Laura teased, calling after him and craned her neck to listen to his footsteps fade away down the stairs. When she was satisfied that he was out of earshot, she leaned close to Mildred. "Did you remember the necklace?" she spoke in a low voice.

Mildred nodded enthusiastically. "It was exactly where you said it would be. In the night-table drawer but... I had to look under a couple of — ahem — novels to find the black jeweler's box." Laura nodded and straightened back up, satisfied, and stood, stooping to pick up the tea things and placing them on the tea tray.

Mildred had been looking on expectantly, hoping for more details, but when she realized that none would be forthcoming without some persuasion, she stood up and shadowed Laura as she moved about the room, collecting the tea things. "It seemed like such an unassuming piece of jewelry... Nothing but a solid gold heart... I just wondered..." Mildred cooed beside her elbow.

Laura froze and turned to Mildred with a stern look. "All right, Mildred. What's on your mind?"

Mildred smiled and said, "It's just that, well I've never seen you wear it before...and, well, I thought you could...dish...just a little bit...you know, gal to gal."

Laura smiled back at Mildred despite herself and returned to her task, more slowly now, as she spoke to Mildred.

"That necklace was given to me by Mr. Steele three years ago."

"Wha-a-at?!" Mildred said, her voice breathy with disbelief.

Laura nodded, and continued, "I wanted to wear it, but... not until... well, not with the way things were..."

Mildred gave Laura a look of empathy and said, "But things are different now..."

Laura looked at Mildred with a twinkle in her eye, "Exactly, Mildred. Which is why I want to wear it for our wedding."

Mildred, with a dreamy expression, nodded and the two women exchange warm looks.

In the hall, they heard Remington whistling as he jogged up the stairs back toward the sitting room. Laura looked in the direction of the sound of his approach and, turning back to Mildred, put a finger to her lips. She quickly picked up the tray and laid it on the sideboard, popping one of the strawberry tarts in her mouth before indicating for them to sit down. She scurried over to one of the chairs, Mildred following suit just in time for Remington to enter the room.

"Caught that mess just in time," he said jubilantly as he lowered his lanky frame back onto the couch. "What have you two been talking about?"

Mildred looked over at Laura and, seeing her eyes wide and her mouth still full of tarts, she warbled enthusiastically, "Oh boss! Mrs. Steele was just telling me how  _stimulating_  your time together has been since coming to Irela-..." Mildred's voice trailed off and she sheepishly cast Laura an apologetic look as Laura glared at her.

Remington looked back and forth between the two, amused by their awkward manner. Without missing a beat, he said, oily with innuendo, "Ye-es, we HAVE had a few rather wonderful experiences here, haven't we, my pet?" And looking at Laura, whose face was pinkening in embarrassment, he chided her, "Easy on those tarts, Laura. You're turning as red as the strawberries inside."

Laura swallowed hard and was winding up to lay into Remington for calling her his pet, with her jaw tense and her pointing finger poised, but he cut her off as he smoothly turned to Mildred, saying, "Speaking of wonderful experiences, Laura and I would like to invite you to join us for dinner one night. I know of a fantastic restaurant just down the road, not too fancy but dressy. We purchased Laura a stunning gown in Harrod's while we were in London and I think it would be the perfect place for her to wear it." he announced.

"Aw, boss, I don't want to be a third wheel. Maybe you and Mrs. Steele should go alone," Mildred stated softly as she flipped her hand in his direction.

"Nonsense, Mildred! There is nothing I would like better than having two sensational women on my arm for an evening of fun, frivolity and gastronomic delights!" Remington declared, with an extravagant flourish of his elegant hands.

"Yes, Mildred...erm...what he said!" Laura added, her a stupefied expression dissipating as she turned to her, "You can't turn down an invitation like that!"

Mildred looked at her and back at Remington and conceded, "Well, if you insist on twisting my arm..."

"Yes, we insist Mildred!" chimed Laura, and Remington added, "It's settled then. I'll make the arrangements first thing in the morning!" Unexpectedly, Laura yawned loudly. "Oh, excuse me!" she exclaimed as she covered her mouth. Standing into a full-bodied stretch, she announced, "I think I'm going to turn in. See you in the morning, Mildred." Remington had watched Laura as she rose and, the long day of teasing and flirtation having left him needing, his roving eyes would have betrayed his appreciation for her full profile on display. But he caught himself before Mildred could see the blatant desire apparent on his face and, shifting in his seat, he looked down and examined the floor, his fingers bracing his forehead and cheekbone, hoping to appear deep in thought.

Laura's voice drew him out of his concentration, "Is everything alright, Mr. Steele?" He looked up at her and feigned indifference at her impending departure.

"Of course Mrs. Steele. Feel free to take your leave. I'll be along in due time after I take this tray down to the kitchen," Remington said to Laura and watched her disappear through the ornate mahogany door frame. His gaze lingered there for a few moments, lost in thought and once again, Remington was drawn from his reverie by Mildred this time, "Boss, yoohoo!"

Remington turned abruptly, his senses restored, to face Mildred and asked, his voice hushed, "Did you contact my man in LA and make the arrangements as I instructed?"

Mildred smiled proudly, "The blueprints will be on your desk within two weeks!" she declared.

"And you gave him my notes outlining the changes to the original design?"

Mildred's expression changed to one of exasperation and she paused before giving Remington an indignant, "Of course!"

"Excellent, excellent!" effused Remington, clasping one knee and rocking back and forth contentedly, as his face creased with the wide dimples of his most self-satisfied of grins.

Mildred narrowed her eyes at him, and said, "What are you up to, Boss?"

Remington looked at her, surprised. Then, with a quick purse of his lips, he said smugly around a chuckle, "Just a little surprise I'm cooking up for Mrs. Steele."

Mildred looked at Remington, eyebrows arched, with a questioning look, daring him not to share. Remington looked at her and the chuckle ran away from his face when he saw her penetrating glare. Then he leaned close to her again as if someone might hear. "I'm rebuilding Laura's house with a few...alterations."

Mildred's eyebrows flew up as she looked at Remington with incredulity. "And you haven't told Mrs. Steele? Don't you think she's going to get angry?"

"Of course she will! Things just wouldn't be quite right unless we occasionally engaged in our little battle of the sexes! Besides, most of the things I do anger her to some degree, but it always turns out for the best."

Mildred had already been shaking her head, "And what about the REAL battle? Finding enough money to pay for it?"

"Hup! That's nothing! A mere bagatelle..." he scoffed, and leaning close again, he confided, "I've been squirreling away small amounts that I've invested in Monroe's company and, ever since he took my advice and branched out into computers, his shares have taken off."

Mildred's expression immediately softened, and she said, "Oh Boss! YOU recommended that Monroe invest in digital?!"

"Well, it seemed like the smart thing to do..."

"Oh Boss, I am so proud of you!"

"Why thank-you Mildred...I..."

"I always knew you'd come around."

"I didn't say I liked the idea, but it seems to be the future, so I thought it churlish to dig my heels in when there was a tidy profit to be made."

He suddenly leveled an intense gaze at Mildred, saying, "I'm determined to be worthy, Mildred. I work very hard in this agency but in these uncertain times it may not be enough. It can't hurt to invest wisely and I'll do whatever it takes to help Laura realize ALL of her dreams."

Then, just as suddenly as these sentiments had surfaced, they dissipated. Mildred was left wondering if she had ever heard the words as he stood abruptly and said, "Now, if you would excuse me, I think I'll go and join Laura, so I will bid you good night. I think Mickeline is going to need your help tomorrow and you don't want to be too tired to help him now, do you?" he teased with good humor.

Mildred did her best to stifle a yawn as she admitted, "You're right, Boss. I'm getting sleepy anyhow. I'll see you for breakfast. Don't keep the missus up too late, huh." She gave Remington a little elbow on her way by, eliciting a laugh from him. "I'll try not to, Mildred. Goodnight, love."

After washing up in the kitchen and putting all the dishes away, Remington nimbly climbed the stairs to he and Laura's bedchamber and found her asleep, the single light on her nightstand still lit. This was what he had been looking forward to all day. He quickly changed for bed and climbed between the sheets and leaned over Laura, brushing his lips over the exposed curve of her shoulder, golden in the glow of the lamplight. The velvet of her skin beneath was so inviting that he peppered a warming path to the hollow of her neck while his hand coiled around her waist to pull her close. But as he did so, Laura jumped and Rem pulled his hand back, startled. "I won't bite"

"Sorry...bad dream" Laura said, her voice gravelly with sleep.

"Well, you don't have to face bad dreams alone any longer."

Laura snuggled down again as Rem enveloped her in his arms and buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply.

"Where have you been? I thought you needed to be debriefed." Laura said, amusement lacing her words.

Rem laughed quietly and said, "I washed up from our tea and put the dishes away."

Laura frowned and gave a dissatisfied murmur, "You know there's staff to look after that...I was beginning to wonder..."

"Well, perhaps you're not the only one pining for our LA... independence... the serendipity of big city life... And I lost track of the time daydreaming, anticipating building our life together in the place where I found a ...home...you..."

Laura frowned again. "Hmmm...now you're making me nervous..."

Rem could feel her tensing and he flattened his hand on her belly, pulling her closer, and leaned in to murmur against her neck, resuming the dance between his lips and her skin, as they trailed along the sinews of her neck. He could feel Laura reacting, arching into him to increase the contact. Between tiny nips and kisses, he said in a penetrating tone, "Well, if there's one good thing that came from my life as a canon, it's that I full and well know how to capitalize on the present..." A moan escaped Laura's lips when Remington's mouth arrived at Laura's ear and without warning, took her earlobe between his teeth and bit down ever so gently, "And make no mistake, my dear Mrs. Steele, that I intend to impart that knowledge upon you with every fiber of my being."

By now his busy hand had found its way up under Laura's nightdress and cupped the round of her breast, feeling the peak, a hardened bud pressing into his palm. His breath, now hot, scorching the sensitized skin of her neck and shoulders.

Laura steeled herself, trying to regain a modicum of control, but she was vibrating with need. She rolled over to face him, her eyes glued to his lips for at least six seconds, her breath audible. Meanwhile, Remington held his own, watching her intently, suddenly worried she would call a halt to the proceedings, but smiled when she lifted her lashes to look into his eyes, and he saw her desire like hot fire, sending a jolt right to his center, rendering him hard and wanting. He barely heard the beatific smile that colored her voice as she said, "Oh, Mr. Steele. I like your style." And with that, she tipped the scales, swiftly rolling them both so that she was above him, her chemise slipping further. He was trapped, a willing prisoner, as she rocked forward and hungrily smothered his roguish grin.


End file.
